

at 


^ - 

c 

,.** 

^ ' 




j 


J\ o 

_ A\ 0 N <J 

■ '* ,# °-> 

f Kf., 4 " - ° 

I •< \A © 

* <* 

cu - 



/ * U 


* 1 
\ v 



-.TtfV'V /\ V 

< y o * x * 4 <\ o * , 

*<f> jA o * c * c s 

j# . c _l^ *,. °o c,°‘ v 

s : \r .°*2§M'. w : 

= i.°°* - 

* .<p 

^ A 



cP^ <y 


I* W , , 

* * c/ ^ v * 

-\ .V " * *s £> ^ 



'''/*?• ' : 1 * ,% ' r * ‘ ' /, ■> : u %: ' * * ' >‘ , • 

*£m%> + ^ 4 _■ - ■ 

& 



CL 





C y o ♦ 



r * > 

. ^ 


V 


<V 


,A V ^ 

V .>> * 





-1 

* A •» , 

A . o N C * * 

* ^ ^ / O 

/ 
kT 






y 0 « X 


F o" 

: 

S >- 




\ v ^ 
X X - 0 N C * ^ 


* >, ^ 


!»<>, , 




o^* *cP c b k 
A V * Y * 0 /■ ^ 80 

V +* 


v 


✓ 





<L A 

* A' c 0 

1 4 * 

■<% v* = 



V\ 



¥»r • ov 

“*'\oA •'';*/< 

v a a^/rr?^ 



0 M o 


<V 


% c*" " 


a 


„- * 

^ A S 

* A o, 

J> c» Nc * A 

tS 



i * b vfy^Ao * 

,* A ■% Aw.' . 
A „. V *>»•’/ 

k V 



A- 





a\ <*» 


* - l' ^ y XJ ^~ « ' ) f~> i 

*> * .0 s 0 * ^ ©, 



o ^ 

^ * 8 ' A * 


- A A * iAA ’-- A *•$ 

* . *> <% ^awllf ® «S> <7 

x "/ ..s' 


0 N G 'l- 

*< °o 

t/> 


,y 6 o' 


> \r c -^- 


/) M 


^ X 
\v c ^ 












Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 


r 


THE 


Little Cousin Series 

(trade mare) 


Each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in 
tint. Cloth, i2mo, with decorative cover 
per volume, 60 cents 

LIST OF TITLES 

By Mary Hazelton Wade, Mary F. 
Nixon-Roulet, Blanche McManus, 
Clara V. Winlow, Florence E. 
Mendel and Others 


Our Little African Cousin 
Our Little Alaskan Cousin 
Our Little Arabian Cousin 
Our Little Argentine Cousin 
Our Little Armenian Cousin 
Our Little Australian Cousin 
Our Little Austrian Cousin 
Our Little Belgian Cousin 
Our Little Bohemian Cousin 
Our Little Brazilian Cousin 
Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 
Our Little Canadian Cousin 
Our Little Chinese Cousin 
Our Little Cuban Cousin 
Our Little Danish Cousin 
Our Little Dutch Cousin 
Our Little Egyptian Cousin 
Our Little English Cousin 
Our Little Eskimo Cousin 
Our Little French Cousin 
Our Little German Cousin 
Our Little Grecian Cousin 
Our Little Hawaiian Cousin 
Our Little Hindu Cousin 

Our Little 1 

L. C. PAGE 


Our Little Hungarian Cousin 
Our Little Indian Cousin 
Our Little Irish Cousin 
Our Little Italian Cousin 
Our Little Japanese Cousin 
Our Little Jewish Cousin 
Our Little Korean Cousin 
Our Little Malayan (Brown) 
Cousin 

Our Little Mexican Cousin 
Our Little Norwegian Cousin 
Our Little Panama Cousin 
Our Little Persian Cousin 
Our Little Philippine Cousin 
Our Little Polish Cousin 
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin 
Our Little Portuguese Cousin 
Our Little Russian Cousin 
Our Little Scotch Cousin 
Our Little Servian Cousin 
Our Little Siamese Cousin 
Our Little Spanish Cousin 
Our Little Swedish Cousin 
Our Little Swiss Cousin 
irkish Cousin 

St COMPANY 


53 Beacon Street, 


Boston, Mass. 


























































































*■* 




%• Mm 

fe / F. 





Photo, by the Bain News Service. 


PRINCESSES EUDOXIE AND NADEJDA OF BULGARIA. 



t * 

* OUR LITTLE $ 
I BULGARIAN COUSIN* 


tj? 

*- 

HT 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr- 


By 

Clara Vostro vsky Winlow 

Author of “ Our Little Bohemian Cousin 


Hr 

-Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

-Hr 


Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 

❖ 

Hr 

Hr 

Hr 


Illustrated by 

Ivan Doseff 



Boston 


L. C. Page & Company 

MD C C C C XI 1 1 


*P 

Tp 

»P 

*P 

‘rP 

rP 

*P 

rip 

rP 

*P 

Tp 

rP 

rP 

'rP 

rP 

rP 

rP 

rP 

rP 


^rPrPrP’PrPrP’PrP’PrPrPrPrPrPrPrPrPrP^ 



< 2 > * 



Copyright , igrg 
By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, April, 1913 



THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. H. SIMONDS & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A, 


SOMETHING ABOUT THE NATIVE LAND 

OF OUR LITTLE BULGARIAN COUSIN 

You boys and girls who have studied your 
geography carefully know that Bulgaria is a 
country in the southeastern part of Europe, 
bounded on the north by the Danube River and 
Roumania; on the east by the Black Sea; on 
the south by Turkey; and on the west by Ser- 
via. 

The Balkan Mountains extend across it from 
east to west, dividing it into Northern and 
Southern Bulgaria. There are also many 
shorter ranges; but, despite its mountainous 
character, Bulgaria is a farming country, for 
the soil is very fertile. This fertility of soil, 
the favorable climate, and the unceasing indus- 
try of the people, accounts for the popular say- 
ing: “ If you give a Bulgarian a piece of rough 


vi Something about the Land 

land, in less than a year he will have changed 
it into a rose garden.” Cereals are the principal 
articles of export; the making of the Oriental 
perfume called attar of roses is also an im- 
portant industry. The mountains are rich in 
minerals, yet mining is but little developed. 

The rise of this progressive nation since it 
first secured a practical independence from 
Turkey is noteworthy, because it has depended 
to so great an extent on the virtue and strength 
of its people. Despite all hindrances, the na- 
tional life of Bulgaria has made rapid strides, 
and in education, agriculture, and commerce its 
progress has been little short of marvellous. 

Without war, the neighboring province of 
East Rumelia, which, though governed by 
Turkey, belonged by right to Bulgaria, was an- 
nexed; a war with a sister state, Servia, was 
vigorously and victoriously ended, and Bulgaria 
grew from a principality to a kingdom; and, 
finally, the Balkan States, with Bulgaria at their 


Something about the Land vii 

head, entered as allies into the present success- 
ful war against Turkey. A war not only for the 
enlargement of their territories but to secure 
to the Christian settlers — people of their own 
blood — political and religious freedom. 

Despite many intermixtures of blood, the 
Bulgarians belong to the Slav race, which in- 
cludes the Servians, the Cechs of Bohemia, the 
Poles and the Russians, who settled in Europe 
between the third and seventh centuries. 

The Bulgarian kingdom has passed through 
many changes. If you were to meet Ljuben, 
our little Bulgarian Cousin, and ask him to tell 
you the name of the greatest Czar, or ruler, of 
Bulgaria, he would quickly answer “ Czar 
Symeon,” and, after a moment’s thought, might 
add “ Or Czar Ivan Assen II.” During the 
reigns of both these czars the Bulgarians were 
masters of the Balkan Peninsula from sea to 
sea, and Bulgaria ranked as one of the impor- 
tant and powerful states of Europe. 


viii Something about the Land 

It belonged at one time to Greece; at another 
time was subject to Servia. In the fourteenth 
century the Moslem Turks gained a foothold 
in Europe, and after considerable resistance, 
ending in the bloody battle of Kossovo (“ the 
Plain of the Blackbirds ”), Bulgaria was forced 
to surrender to them. 

During the long Ottoman rule the country 
was repeatedly pillaged and the inhabitants out- 
raged; the ancient literature was destroyed; 
schools and native churches were prohibited, 
until the people sank into ignorance and dejec- 
tion, and, forgetting their own historic past, 
were themselves forgotten. 

Some especially terrible massacres, in which 
from twenty-five to thirty-five thousand Bul- 
garians were horribly butchered by the Turks, 
at last demanded the attention of civilization. 
Gladstone, then Prime Minister of Great 
Britain, rose in behalf of this little country, 
and Russia, the sympathy of whose people had 


Something about the Land ix 

been greatly stirred by the sufferings of a kin- 
dred state, was allowed to come to Bulgaria’s 
assistance. After the Russo-Turkish War, Bul- 
garia became an independent principality, and 
later, the present kingdom whose monarch 
bears the old title of Czar. 

What part Bulgaria may yet play in the his- 
tory of nations cannot yet be foretold, but its 
future is one of much promise. 

Clara Vostroysky Winlow. 



Contents 


CHAPTER 

Something about the Native Land 
of Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 
I. In the Rose Fields . 

II. The Village Home .... 

III. Work and Play 

IV. At Phillipopolis 

V. A Village Gathering 

VI. The Bulgarian Cinderella 

VII. School Days and Holidays 

VIII. Unexpected Guests .... 

IX. Cousin Rada 

X. Sofia 

XI. New Scenes and Acquaintances . 
XII. War Rumors 


PAGE 

V 

I 

7 

H 

23 

32 

38 

54 

62 

73 

82 

93 

104 







List of Illustrations 


Princesses Eudoxie and Nadejda of Bul- 
garia Frontispiece ^ 

“ He found his baby sister still sleeping 

SERENELY ” 3 / 

“ At first Ljuben’s thoughts were en- 
tirely OF THE oxen” . . . . 24^ 

“ Did his best to make the time pass 

PLEASANTLY FOR HIM ” . . 27 ✓ 

“ Began to play softly some of the mel- 
ancholy folk-songs” 35 

“ There were Bulgarian peasant women 

DRESSED LIKE THOSE HE KNEW AT 
HOME ” 87 

“ The first soft tones seemed to melt 

INTO A BESEECHING PRAYER ” . . . 99 

“ It lay in a picturesque valley in the 

VERY HEART OF THE MOUNTAINS ” . . 108 

Ferdinand, Czar of Bulgaria, entering 

Mustapha Pacha 112 

The Czar reviewing his troops before 

Adrianople 1 14 


“ The furnace of centuries has toughened 
the Bulgarian into a man of marked and force- 
ful type . No other nation has travelled so far 
and as fast as Bulgaria has travelled in the last 
third of a century” — Theodore Roosevelt . 


Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 


CHAPTER I 

IN THE ROSE FIELDS 

Not far from the Balkan Mountains, in shel- 
tered valleys in the southern part of the country 
of Bulgaria, until a few years ago known as 
Eastern Roumelia, stretch vast fields of damask 
roses. 

In a corner of one of these beautiful garden 
spots, on a warm day in the latter part of June, 
shaded from the hot sun by an open green para- 
sol, lay a tiny baby fast asleep. Something, 
perhaps, of the rose fragrance mingled with her 
dreams for she seemed to smile. She was quite 
alone, but from farther away came the sound 


2 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

of many voices, and now and then one might 
have caught glimpses of people moving through 
the regular rows of bushes, in their bright-hued 
garments, which seemed, in some cases, to rival 
the roses’ gayety. These were Bulgarian peas- 
ant folk picking the rose petals that their fra- 
grance might be caught and preserved in that 
rare Oriental perfume known as attar of roses. 

Somewhat nearer to the child than most of 
the others, a group of three — father, mother, 
and son, — were engaged in the work. They 
had come from a village several miles distant, 
at the earnest request of the owner of the field, 
for it was already nearing the end of the season 
and much work still remained to be done. They 
had arisen before sunrise and set out, and 
Ljuben, the bright-faced, sandy haired boy, had 
already picked so long and steadily that, while 
it never even occurred to him to stop, it was no 
wonder that he suddenly gave an involuntary 
sigh. His kind mother glanced up. 



HE FOUND HIS BABY SISTER STILL SLEEPING 

SERENELY.” 























































































1 
































In the Rose Fields 3 

“ Ljuben,” she said, “ I think that I heard 
the baby; run, laddie, to see.” 

Ljuben gladly obeyed, skipping away in a 
fashion of his own, and waving his arms as a 
bird flaps its wings. He found his baby sister 
still sleeping serenely. For a moment he gazed 
at her sweet, round face with a boy’s curiosity, 
and then, stretching himself and yawning, 
dropped down on the soft ground beside her. 
How peaceful the fragrant air seemed! He 
lazily watched the many bright-colored butter- 
flies and moths hovering about. But only for 
a moment! Like an india-rubber ball, he sud- 
denly bounced up, turned a couple of summer- 
saults, stretched himself again, and, after a 
hasty, re-assuring look at the infant, walked 
briskly back to his work. 

The short relaxation had been all that he 
needed, for after briefly replying to his mother’s 
inquiries, he burst into song, while his fingers 
redoubled their speed. 


4 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

Perhaps an hour later the owner of the field 
joined them and invited Ljuben to accompany 
him to see how the distillation was going on. 
Ljuben already knew something of the process 
which the rose petals underwent. As soon as 
they are gathered the leaves, with about twice 
their weight of spring water, are placed in 
copper stills, heated over a wood fire. The 
distilled fluid is then exposed to the cool night 
air in open vessels, from which a thin coating 
of attar is carefully skimmed with a feather 
in the morning. It takes a great many roses to 
make a small quantity of attar, one hundred and 
fifty pounds of leaves yielding less than one 
ounce; but it has considerable value, being sold 
for from sixty to seventy dollars a pound. 

As they walked along, the owner won 
Ljuben’s heart by talking to him as if he were 
already a man, discussing the year’s crop of 
roses, how many more thousands of pounds of 
attar than any other country Bulgaria was now 


In the Rose Fields 


5 


producing, laying stress on how necessary it was 
for every peasant to keep up the standard so 
that the attar coming from their country might 
continue to be known as the best in quality pro- 
duced anywhere. He also spoke of the changes 
that took place in the oil after it left his hands, 
and on the various methods of diffusing it, for 
it is so strong that this is necessary to make it 
agreeable. 

Although Ljuben was only ten years old he 
was a very wide-awake and practical boy, and 
knew that it was to his advantage to listen at- 
tentively to all that so successful a peasant could 
tell him. Now and then he showed his interest 
by an intelligent question. 

When, after the works had been visited, they 
returned, the owner brought with him, as a 
present, a small jar of delicious rose jam with 
which he was just then experimenting. The 
family were already seated in the rude spring- 
less wagon in which they had come, to which 


6 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

oxen instead of horses were harnessed. As 
soon as Ljuben had jumped in, his father 
prodded the oxen with a long pole which he 
had with him for that purpose, and they started 
slowly on their homeward journey. 


CHAPTER II 


THE VILLAGE HOME 

It was nearing dusk when the vehicle joggled 
into the village in which they lived, and, turn- 
ing into one of the unevenly paved streets, 
stopped before a two-story wooden building 
with a red overhanging roof, built around three 
sides of a quadrangular court. Here they were 
greeted by the loud barking of a couple of very 
shaggy gray sheep dogs, which are quite com- 
mon in this part of the world. The dogs were 
followed by Ljuben’s grandfather, a man of 
more than eighty years, somewhat wrinkled, it 
is true, but straight, alert, and hardy in appear- 
ance. Despite their fierce aspect, the dogs 
showed their pleasure at the home-coming by 

leaping on each in turn, by rolling over one 
7 


8 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

another, and by every now and then giving a 
funny shrill little bark. 

While Ljuben and his father unharnessed 
the oxen and led them to their stalls in the lower 
story of the house, where the pigs, dogs and 
fowls were also kept, the mother went up a 
rather rickety outside staircase to the upper 
floor. This floor was surrounded by a balcony 
rendered quite picturesque by vines running over 
the roof and around the wooden pillars, and here 
and there were pots of fragrant herbs and 
flowers. Another pleasing bit of color was 
added by the festoons of red peppers strung up 
to dry, while tobacco leaves, sewed together, 
were also dangling against the sides of the 
house. From the balcony a series of doors led 
into the living-room and the sleeping-apart- 
ments. 

When Ljuben’s great-grandparents were liv- 
ing, this house had been used as a khan or public 
inn. It differed from the other houses of the 


The Village Home 9 

village, which were one-storied, with white- 
washed walls and red, projecting roofs. Each 
of these had separate sheds for the cattle, and 
pens for the sheep and fowl. 

Ljuben’s father and mother had several times 
discussed the building of a new house, but while 
the old inn served their needs they were reluc- 
tant to spend the necessary money. 

Supper already awaited the family on a table 
on the balcony, where most of the meals were 
eaten. It consisted of a thick, reddish soup 
called tchorba, pork with onions and red pep- 
pers, rye bread, and excellent cheese made of 
sheep’s milk. It had been prepared in their 
absence by Ljuben’s grandmother, who bustled 
about in a most active manner and who 
made her own meal of a big bowl of thick, 
sour milk into which she crumbled pieces of 
bread. 

After all had finished, the women carried the 
dishes into the neat living-room, which was of 


io Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

good size, with whitewashed walls and a ceil- 
ing of stained wood. There were no pictures on 
the walls, except a rather elaborate engraving 
of the patron saint of Bulgaria, Ivan of Rilo; 
but there were two or three racks of glazed 
dishes. On the floor were two small hand-woven 
rugs. The most noticeable article of furniture 
was an immense wardrobe which contained most 
of the household goods. There was also a nar- 
row, hand-carved bookcase with quite a number 
of books, highly prized by all. 

After the dishes had been washed, and while 
the men sat on the balcony discussing the latest 
news from Macedonia, where they had near 
relatives, the mother placed the baby in a ham- 
mock suspended from the ceiling and began to 
croon a Bulgarian lullaby. Hardly had the 
baby’s eyes closed than the dogs in the court 
below set up a shrill barking. Soon after, 
familiar voices were heard; some neighbors 
had come in to spend the evening. It proved 


The Village Home n 

to be Peter Vazoff, who lived on the same street, 
his wife, and daughter, Donka. 

Donka was one or two years younger than 
Ljuben, a merry, light-hearted child, always 
ready to sing or dance. The children had 
known each other since babyhood, gamboling 
over the hills and roaming through the woods 
together on holidays and Sundays. Donka had 
an older sister, Jelena, who had lately become 
engaged to be married. This made Donka pre- 
tend to a new dignity in her dealings with 
Ljuben, which brought out all the mischief in 
the boy’s nature. 

To-night, when he tried to make fun of her, 
she pouted, saying: “You do not understand 
me, Ljuben ! ” To this he mockingly retorted 
with the Bulgarian proverb : “ Do not blame 
me. 1 Only the nightingale can understand the 
rose.’ ” 

Then, seeing that she still assumed her young- 
lady air, he began to tell her of a wonderful girl 


12 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

dancer he had seen that day. Had she been 
just plain little Donka, and not a pretended 
grown-up Donka, she would have seen the tell- 
tale sparkle in his eyes. But she was so ab- 
sorbed in her new role that she was quite un- 
aware that the whole story was the product of 
his imagination. 

She felt a little nettled, too, for she rather 
prided herself on her dancing abilities. “ Play,” 
she said at last, “ and I’ll show you some 
dancing.” 

So Ljuben, smiling to himself, took down his 
bag-pipe and played. The little girl began to 
dance, at first slowly and self-consciously, but 
soon so prettily, so freely, so spiritedly, that the 
older members, the women busy spinning, 
stopped their conversation to gaze at her. As 
the music continued her dancing grew lighter 
and quicker until she seemed to those present 
some fairy floating about in their midst. Sud- 
denly the music stopped, and Donka ran to her 


The Village Home 13 

mother and, kneeling beside her, buried her 
head in her apron, while all nodded and 
smiled approval. 

Ljuben came up, and, when the conversation 
had been resumed, said with boyish frankness: 
“ No one can dance like you, Donka. I was 
only making believe about the other dancer. 
Say, Donka, I found a vulture’s nest yesterday 
and I’ll give it to you if you care to come for it 
to-morrow.” 


CHAPTER III 


WORK AND PLAY 

Ljuben awoke early and had plenty of time 
to help in the feeding of the cattle, pigs, sheep, 
and fowls, and also to hoe a little in the adjoin- 
ing cabbage patch. Nearer the house was a 
kitchen-garden in which grew the large red pep- 
pers called paprika, a favorite food with the Bul- 
garians, being cooked in many different ways at 
different stages of their growth. There were 
also a number of fruit trees, particularly plum 
trees, and hardy-looking grapevines loaded 
with heavy bunches of grapes, still unripe. 

As Ljuben walked among the fruit he fol- 
lowed the example set by his father of never 
passing by a dead or broken branch without im- 
mediately cutting it off. Sometimes this was not 


14 


Work and Play 15 

easy to do, but he would generally persevere 
until it was accomplished. 

He came in with a good appetite for his 
simple breakfast of rye bread, loaf sugar, and 
thick, sour milk, after which he drove the sheep 
and cattle to the pasture-land, Mera, a village 
institution maintained for the free use of all the 
inhabitants. 

Donka joined him on his way back and 
together they went down the sleepy village 
streets to do the morning marketing. There 
were a few shops with open fronts in which 
various household supplies were sold; there 
was also a harness-maker’s, a potter’s shop, 
filled with terra cotta jugs and jars; and a hat- 
ter’s shop, where the cylindrical fur hats liked by 
the men were sold. The errands of both lay at 
the butcher’s, who not only had raw meat for 
sale, but hot, cooked sausages as well. 

Donka was her own playful little self to-day, 
so that when Ljuben tried to adopt a banter- 


1 6 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

ing tone in speaking to her, she met him in a 
laughing spirit which put them both into an 
exceedingly good humor. At last Ljuben took 
from his pocket a piece of his own carving and 
showed it to her. It was too good a chance to 
“ get even ” with him for his teasing. 

“ It is very beautiful,” she exclaimed, with 
special emphasis on the last word, “ but,” and 
she gazed mischievously into his eyes, “ doesn’t 
it make you think rather of a goose without tail 
feathers?” 

But Ljuben did not mind. They parted good 
friends at Donka’s door and Ljuben ran home 
that he might do his share of the work in the 
fields. 

That afternoon he accompanied his father on 
the important errand of seeing a carpenter in 
regard to the building of a new and better stair- 
case for the house. They followed a sheep-trail 
through the fields to the mountains, walking 
rapidly, with the free, easy strides of mountain- 


Work and Play 17 

eers. They reached their destination at the 
little village of Shipka, at the foot of the famous 
Shipka Pass, a winding road over one of the 
lower Balkans, joining Northern Bulgaria to 
Southern Bulgaria, full of crosses and other 
signs of a famous winter battle fought there 
between the Turks and the Russians, when the 
latter came to the help of the suffering Bulga- 
rians, who belong to the same great Slavonian 
race. 

When they had passed the big Russian con- 
vent and seminary where students are trained 
for the Bulgarian priesthood, and the cathedral 
built in memory of those who fell in the Pass, 
they came to the carpenter’s little shop, where 
they learned that he was not to be at home until 
late in the afternoon. Ljuben was conse- 
quently sent back alone, his father resolving 
to wait. 

As the boy started on his way the melancholy 
snatches of song which escaped his lips con- 


1 8 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

trasted oddly with the very practical ideas with 
which his head was teeming. Just before he was 
out of sight, he glanced back, and waved to his 
father, who had unconcernedly taken up a few 
tools lying outside of the shop, and, rather than 
be idle, was hard at work at some uncompleted 
task he had found there. 

Ljuben had proceeded about half the dis- 
tance home when, stopping to gaze at three 
eagles circling high above the mountains, he was 
overtaken by a stranger, who proved to be a 
gardener who had travelled considerably in 
foreign lands. 

The year before, he told Ljuben, as they 
walked on in company, he and four gardener 
friends left their village home together. They 
obtained work in the same place, lived together 
in a couple of rooms, and kept a common purse, 
into which they put all of their earnings and 
from which they drew money according to their 
joint needs. It was not until they returned 


Work and Play 19 

home that they divided equally the sum that 
remained. 

This sharing of expenses and profits did not 
at all surprise Ljuben, who looked at it as a 
very sensible arrangement. What did surprise 
him, rather, was the fact that the stranger 
should have thought of mentioning it. How- 
ever, the gardener had much else of interest to 
tell the boy, who listened intently, wondering 
whether he should ever have such an oppor- 
tunity to travel and learn. 

Among other things the man had been very 
unpleasantly impressed with some street rioting 
he had seen during his travels, — a thing al- 
most unknown in Bulgaria, — and he also spoke 
at length of the very poor people whom he had 
met, but he found it difficult to give a clear idea 
of actual misery to his companion. There were 
no big estates in or near his village, but every- 
body whom Ljuben knew lived in rude comfort. 
“ Surely,” he said, “ even if they have only a few 


20 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

sheep, these will soon increase with care, and the 
pasture is free — ” 

Here his new acquaintance hastily interrupted 
him. “ But the pasture is not free everywhere, 
as here, and some people haven’t any sheep,” a 
statement which was so puzzling to Ljuben that 
he became silent. 

They parted near the foot of the mountains, 
each going in a different direction. 

When Ljuben’s father came home he an- 
nounced that the carpenter was too busy to 
undertake the work for some time to come, and, 
as the staircase needed immediate repairing, he 
intended starting early next morning for Plodiv 
(Phillipopolis) , where he was sure to find some 
one who could help him with the work. 

Ljuben arose and stood by his father’s chair. 
When the latter had finished, he could not re- 
strain the eager note in his voice as he begged 
to go. 

His father considered. r At last he shook his 


Work and Play 21 

head: “I’m afraid there is too much work to 
be done at home. Unless,” he added, and 
perhaps a twinkle came into his eyes, “ mother 
wishes you to make some purchases for her or 
little Lalka while I hunt for my man.” 

Mother was sitting near, spinning and quietly 
listening. “ Now, let me see,” she said slowly, 
while Ljuben stood breathless, for a trip to the 
second largest town of Bulgaria was a very 
great treat, “let me see. Yes, I believe I do 
want several things and I also believe that on 
the whole Ljuben can be spared better than I 
to get them.” 

Ljuben smiled gratefully, and then humming 
a merry tune went into the living-room, lit a 
candle and, going to the bookcase, took from 
it the ^.e geography which he used in school. 
Firs tl looked up the various places of which 
the gardener had spoken; then, turning to the 
map of Bulgaria, he looked long at the word 
Plodiv (Phillipopolis) in the southern part. 


22 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

Glancing further his eyes fell on Slivnitza, 
noted for its homespuns and fine rugs, and, 
taking a pencil and paper, he amused himself 
by making a list of places in Bulgaria named 
after fruit trees, writing them carefully in the 
queer characters called the Cyrillic alphabet, 
used in that and some of the neighboring coun- 
tries. This list included Slivnitza after the 
plum, Jablanica after the apple, Vishnica after 
the sour cherry, and several others. 

It was not yet eight o’clock when he went 
into one of the bedrooms and, quickly undress- 
ing, threw himself on his iron bed and fell into 
a deep, sound sleep. 


no 


CHAPTER IV 


AT PHILLIPOPOLIS 

The whole family arose at daybreak, break- 
fasted, and then Ljuben helped to harness the 
patient oxen to the same rude cart in which they 
had travelled to the rose fields. This cart, 
called an araba, was of very simple construc- 
tion, its body consisting mainly of two long 
logs placed some distance apart and joined by 
numerous cross-pieces. As there were no 
springs, and as the heavy wheels, which could 
not boast a bit of iron, turned in a most crazy, 
noisy fashion, it was fortunate perhaps that the 
oxen went no faster. 

As they took their places and said good-by, 

Ljuben and his father, both with snowy white 

blouses girdled at the waist and trousers of 

cloth woven at home, looked equally attractive 
2 3 


24 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

with their frank, honest, healthy faces. At first 
Ljuben’s thoughts were entirely of the oxen, 
for that morning he had tried to improve their 
appearance by staining the hair between their 
horns a bright yellow. He had heard some- 
where that it would afford the animals some 
magical protection from harm, just how he was 
far from certain. 

It was not long, however, before he was at- 
tracted by the beauty of the wooded hills as the 
first rays of the sun fell on them. Then, he 
began contrasting them with the bare hills in 
whose rocky surface there is so much mica that 
they gleam and glisten with a peculiar brilliance. 
There was beauty, too, in the big vegetable gar- 
dens and in the fields of tobacco with their 
brilliant pink blossoms, all testifying to care 
and the great fertility of the soil. Now and 
then they overtook carts on their way to mar- 
ket, filled to overflowing with produce of all 
kinds. 



AT FIRST LJUBEN’S THOUGHTS WERE ENTIRELY OF 

THE OXEN.” 















. 




















. 














i • ■ 











At Phillipopolis 25 

Early as they started, so slow were the oxen 
that it was nearing noon when Plodiv came into 
view. They had been travelling on an almost 
level plain, when, suddenly, they were con- 
fronted by seven hills of granite upon and 
around some of which the city is built. It is 
very old, being named after Philip of Macedon, 
the father of Alexander the Great. It was 
formerly confined to three hills, which accounts 
for the Romans having called it Trimontium. 
The broad river Maritza is on the north, while 
to the south are the Rhodope Mountains, which 
somewhat resemble the Alps. 

Ljuben’s father left the oxen at a small tav- 
ern in the lower portion of the town, then he 
and his son climbed one of the narrov:, steep 
streets, passing several open-fronted shops, 
some of which were filled with native cheeses 
paclced in large sheepskins. At last they 
reached one of the typical houses, with a pro- 
jecting upper story supported by wooden pillars. 


26 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

In this house the overhanging part was covered 
by a sort of white stucco, highly ornamented. 
All the windows visible were barred, as were 
the windows of several of the adjoining houses. 

Here they were warmly welcomed by old 
friends, who at once led them in to dinner and 
promised to take charge of Ljuben for the rest 
of the day and assist him in making his pur- 
chases while his father was absent. 

These purchases were not extensive, but con- 
siderable time was nevertheless spent in making 
them, for Ljuben found much to occupy his 
attention. There was no need for hurry, for 
it was decided that it would be necessary to 
spend the night with their kind friends. The 
father returned in time for the evening meal, 
pleased at having found a capable man who un- 
derstood enough about carpentry to help in the 
rebuilding of the old-fashioned staircase. 

The evening was a very interesting one to 
Ljuben, for several friends, who knew his 



DID HIS BEST TO MAKE THE TIME PASS PLEASANTLY 

FOR HIM.” 












At Phillipopolis 27 

father, dropped in, among them being a Bul- 
garian priest, who took a fancy to the lad and 
did his best to make the time pass pleasantly 
for him. After speaking of some of his own 
varied experiences, the talk drifted to Ivan of 
Rilo, whose picture hung in Ljuben’s own home. 

“ Ivan,” he said, “ lived more than nine hun- 
dred years ago. He was originally a shepherd, 
but much brooding over his shortcomings and 
his desire for improvement led him to adopt 
the life of a hermit. For twenty years he lived 
alone in a dark cave, and then retired to the 
hollow of an oak tree on the Ryl Mountains. 
Even here he could not find the seclusion which 
he considered necessary for communion with 
God, so he at last removed to an inaccessible 
rock, under which the famous Ryl Monastery, 
visited by all tourists to Bulgaria, was after- 
wards built.” 

The priest did not confine his talk to religious 
heroes, however, for he soon branched off into 


28 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

tales of Bulgaria’s past greatness, dwelling on 
the long and very prosperous reign of Czar 
Symeon, who lived just a thousand years ago, 
when Bulgarians were masters of a territory 
stretching from the Black to the Adriatic Sea; 
and of Czar Ivan Assen II, who came later, 
and under whose rule Bulgaria took equal rank 
with other European countries, while agricul- 
ture, trade, and handicrafts flourished to such 
an extent that the empire was perhaps as highly 
civilized as now. 

Ljuben never tired of hearing of Bulgaria’s 
past history and to-night the persuasive tones of 
the priest’s voice made it more than usually 
alluring. The priest, in his turn, was highly 
pleased with his attentive listener. When he 
arose to go he put his hand on Ljuben’s shoulder, 
saying: “ Bulgaria will take her place once more 
among the great nations of the world if her 
sons love her and are true to her.” At this 
Ljuben felt fired by an ambition to go at once 


At Phillipopolis 29 

and somehow prove his devotion to his native 
land. 

When the boy came down to breakfast, next 
morning, he found that the carpenter who was 
to accompany them, had already arrived. He 
proved to be a man of very few words, answer- 
ing questions put to him with monosyllables or 
simply with nods of the head, and might have 
passed for a very unsociable individual were it 
not for the simple, direct glance of a pair of 
very honest, sad-looking eyes. 

Ljuben was startled at the sudden change 
that came over the carpenter when his father 
asked him if he had heard anything regarding 
a reported late outrage committed by the Turks 
in neighboring Macedonia. He straightened 
up, his eyes flashed, and he clenched his fists. 

“News?” he said, hoarsely. “What do I 
care for news? I, who once belonged to Mace- 
donia and lost everything dear to men’s hearts 
through the Turks ! News? I keep away from 


30 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

it, for it drives me mad by recalling my own 
misfortunes ! ” 

Then, in very agitated tones, he explained 
that he was a Bulgarian from Macedonia; that 
the village in which he had lived was unusually 
prosperous, but that it benefited the inhabitants 
little, for the more they earned the more was 
demanded of them in taxes. This was borne 
patiently as long as their persons were not 
molested. One day, however, a large company 
of B ashi-B azouks 1 appeared during the tem- 
porary absence of the men. Just what hap- 
pened was never known, but, when the men re- 
turned, the village was in flames and the women 
had entirely disappeared. Later, a few charred 
bodies, that might account for a very few of the 
women, were found in the ruins. 

“ No, no ! I won’t speak of my own loss,” 
he concluded; “it was like that of others.” 

1 Irregulars in the Turkish army serving simply for mainte- 
nance. 


At Phillipopolis 31 

With a shudder, the man closed his lips tightly 
and stared straight ahead with a strange tense 
look that was half-wild. Full of sympathy, 
Ljuben and his father respected the man’s 
silence, until home was in sight. 


CHAPTER V 


A VILLAGE GATHERING 

The summer passed quickly, for there was 
much work to be done out of doors and, before 
Ljuben was aware, the time for the re-opening 
of school was at hand. A few days before his 
studies began, his mother received word from 
the mother of Jelena and Donka that the 
maidens of the village were planning to spend 
the day at their home, to help Jelena in the 
preparation of her trousseau, for she was to be 
married at the beginning of winter. She begged 
Ljuben’s mother to come as company for her- 
self, and she particularly specified that Jelena 
wanted Ljuben so that he could “ run errands, 
tell stories, and play on his gusla, when not too 
busy teasing Donka.” 

Ljuben and his mother were glad of this 
32 


A Village Gathering 33 

chance to be of help. As it happened to be a 
holiday, they put on their Sunday clothes and 
started, the mother carrying her distaff that she 
might spin on the way, as well as after she got 
there, and thus not lose any time in idleness. 

They found the house filled with a chatter- 
ing, busy group of girls, who, having also 
dressed themselves in their best for the occa- 
sion, resembled a garden-plot of bright colored 
flowers. Jelena looked particularly happy and 
pretty in her short, open, sleeveless jacket of 
dark blue, showing a richly hand-embroidered 
chemise of pure white linen, the narrow skirt 
embroidered deeply around the edges in red and 
white. Around her neck was a long string of 
gold money, which, to some extent, represented 
her dowry. Among several of the other girls 
green seemed to be the favorite color used in 
the embroidery, which they had themselves 
worked. All wore their hair down their backs 
in long braids, in which they had intertwined 


34 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

bright ribbons, flowers and sometimes coins. 
Short, fancy aprons of different designs were 
either tied around their waists or held in place 
by broad belts. The two mothers differed from 
the young people mainly in having their heads 
covered with becoming white head-kerchiefs. 

Ljuben was always welcome, not only because 
he could “ make music ” on several instruments, 
but also because he had the story-teller’s gift, 
inherited from his grandfather, whose especial 
talent in that line was known for many miles 
around. The boy was just having a merry frolic 
with Donka when he was summoned to his post. 

“ Some stories, Ljuben, please ! ” one of the 
girls cried. 

“ Be sure they’re exciting enough! ” said an- 
other. 

“ Don’t make them so exciting we’ll forget 
to sew and prick our fingers with the needle,” 
came from a plump little maiden whose cheeks 
made one think of a round red apple. 



BEGAN TO PLAY SOFTLY SOME OF THE 


MELANCHOLY 


FOLK - SONGS 



















■ 





A Village Gathering 35 

Ljuben took his place gravely among them, 
secretly wishing that the young men had not 
gone to help Jelena’s betrothed in the building 
of their new home. Soon he was drawing on 
an apparently inexhaustible supply of folk-lore, 
dealing with fairy-like creatures called vilas and 
samovilas and terrible fire-breathing zmoks and 
ogeniks; with witches and the evil eye; and 
curious old traditions of the world and its 
people that might have been heathen in their 
origin. 

Finally he stopped, took up the gusla, a sort 
of elementary fiddle, which he had brought 
with him, and began to play softly some of the 
melancholy folk-songs full of the yearning of 
the people for freedom. These were followed 
by his own rendering of a Bulgarian ballad re- 
garding the Youdas, or Fates, who are still 
supposed by many of the peasant folks to con- 
cern themselves with the affairs of human be- 
ings. 


36 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

When he had finished, a spirited-looking girl 
called out: 

“ Give us some songs of the Haiducs , to 
whom we owe so much.” 

So Ljuben told, through music and song, of 
brave, lawless men, not unlike Robin Hood, 
the avengers of wrongs suffered under the 
Turks. 

This proved so popular it had to be repeated. 
Then he gave them a mournful folk-song about 
an insurgent who was killed fighting, and who 
sent a message to his betrothed ending with 

“ Dark earth was my bride, 

The guests at the wedding 
Were Turkish soldiers, 

And for my choristers 
Had I black ravens.” 

Possibly he might have continued with even 
more funereal music, had not Jelena approached 
him. “You haven’t given us any love songs 
yet,” she pleaded softly. 


A Village Gathering 37 

“ I can’t sing those,” the boy protested, shrug- 
ging his shoulders, “ but I’ll play, if you girls 
sing.” 

“Play! Play!” the girls cried and, before 
he could begin, the little apple-cheeked maiden 
started a pretty love ditty in which all joined, 
while they mischievously directed their glances 
at Jelena, who could not keep back her blushes. 

In the midst of this merriment, the refresh- 
ments of the country, consisting of Turkish 
coffee and sweetmeats, were served; after 
which a begging voice made itself heard: 

“Tell us one more story, little Ljuben, so 
that our hands may work the faster, and in re- 
turn we’ll all dance with you on the village 
green to-night.” 

“ One, and one only, then,” said Ljuben with 
decision, “ and it’ll be a girl’s story this time.” 
So when the girls had again resumed their work 
he surprised them by repeating the Bulgarian 
version of the story of Cinderella. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE BULGARIAN CINDERELLA 

“ Once upon a time, when magical things 
happened more frequently than they do now, 
several maidens sat spinning around a deep 
opening in the ground. They chatted and gos- 
siped with no thought of sorrow, as young 
people will. Suddenly, an old, old man with a 
beard as white as snow stood before them. 

‘ Do you not know,’ he said, ‘ that you are in 
danger? Should one of you drop her spindle 
into that rift, her mother will change into a 
cow.’ 

“ Half-frightened, half-amused, the girls . 

stopped their work to gaze in wonder at the 

man as he hobbled away. Then they quickly 

rose and pushed forward to the edge, each 
38 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 39 

anxious to discover what magic lay concealed 
within the rift. 

“ As they did so, Marie, the most beautiful 
and industrious of them all, accidentally 
dropped her spindle into it. Full of dismay, 
her companions tried to help her to recover it, 
but in vain. At last they had to give up and, 
separating, each went homeward. 

“ As Marie reached her own gate she found 
that the stranger had spoken truly, for her 
mother had really been changed into a cow, and 
now stood awaiting her with the other cattle. 
Full of deep grief, Marie was forced to shut 
her up in the stalls with the others. 

“ Some time after this occurrence Marie’s 
father married a widow with an only daughter. 
This widow proved to have a mean, spiteful 
disposition. She was envious of her step- 
daughter’s beauty and amiability, for her own 
daughter was cross-eyed, cross-tempered, and 
unattractive in every possible way. This envy 


40 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

led to dislike, and it was not long before 
she sought hard to make Marie’s life a 
burden. 

“ Among the first tasks given to Marie was 
the herding of the cows, but the girl was glad 
of this, for it gave her an opportunity to be 
often with the mother she had loved. One day, 
however, as she was starting out, her step- 
mother handed her a big bag of hemp-fibers, 
saying: ‘If you don’t spin this all into yarn 
by nightfall, I warn you that you had better 
not return.’ 

“ Marie gazed at the amount in dismay, but, 
when she tried to expostulate, she was angrily 
pushed out of doors. 

“ When the pasture was reached, Marie took 
up the bag, gazed at its size, and burst into 
tears. The Mother Cow noticed that she was 
crying and, coming up to her, asked: 

“ ‘ Why do you cry, my daughter? ’ 

“ ‘ I cry, dear mother,’ she replied, ‘ because 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 41 

I have been ordered to spin this bag of 
fibers into yarn before nightfall, or not return 
home.’ 

“‘Dry your tears,’ said the cow; ‘put the 
bag where I can reach it and get ready to wind 
the yarn into balls.’ 

“ Then Marie saw the cow chew up the 
fibers. As she did so they began to flow out 
of her ear as yarn. So quickly did this take 
place that she had all she could do to wind it 
into a ball. By nightfall it was finished, and, 
greatly relieved, Marie returned home with the 
cattle. 

“ When her step-mother saw what had been 
accomplished, she could hardly believe her eyes. 
The work done was so perfect, too, that it was 
impossible to find fault. 

“ The next day she gave Marie a bag twice 
as big, with the same threat of what would 
happen if it were not spun into yarn by night- 
fall. 


42 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

“ Fearing that this might prove too much for 
the Mother Cow, Marie tried to expostulate, 
but was roughly ordered away. 

“ As soon as the pasture was reached, Marie 
went up to her mother and showed her the new 
task. The cow at once began to chew, the yarn 
began to flow out of her ear, and Marie quickly 
wound it into a ball. By nightfall it was again 
finished, and, with a grateful heart, Marie re- 
turned home. 

“ This time the step-mother was certain that 
no human being could have done the work alone, 
so when, on the third morning, she gave Marie 
a bag three times as big, with the same orders, 
she also secretly sent her own daughter to fol- 
low and learn what took place. The daughter 
did this, reaching the field without M'arie’s 
knowledge, and hid behind a tree. From there 
she saw all that occurred and, hastening back, 
reported it to her mother. 

“ The news threw the step-mother into a vio- 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 43 

lent temper. She resolved that, come what 
would, the cow should die. When her husband 
came home she was still furious. Noticing that 
something was wrong, he asked her what was 
the matter. 

“ 4 The matter,’ she replied, 1 is the vicious 
cattle you keep; the little brown cow attacked 
me to-day so that it is a wonder I’m here. 
There is no telling what damage she may do 
next. I beg of you to kill her.’ 

44 Her husband was surprised, but, believing 
her story to be true, agreed that the cow should 
be butchered. 

44 When Marie learned of this she was in 
despair, and, with a heavy heart, hastened to 
her mother to warn her. 

44 1 Do not weep,’ said the cow. 1 Let them 
kill me, but see that you do not taste a morsel 
of my meat. Instead, beg the bones of them; 
bury these in the ground under your bedroom 
window. Then, whenever you are in trouble, 


44 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

offer a prayer on my grave and I will help 
you.’ 

“ The cow was killed. Marie refused the 
meat, but begged' for the bones which, picked 
bare, were jeeringly thrown at her. These she 
tied into a neat bundle and buried where her 
mother had directed her. 

“ Deprived of the companionship of the cow, 
the girl felt particularly lonesome, but her suf- 
fering was borne patiently and no cross words 
ever escaped her. This rare amiability, how- 
ever, instead of winning her step-mother’s good- 
will, seemed only to inflame her bitterness. 
She now kept the girl at home, making her per- 
form the most unpleasant duties, and particu- 
larly to clean the hearth, sift the ashes, and 
polish the pots and kettles. 

“ When Marie tried to slip away to wash 
herself and brush her hair, her cruel step-mother 
would sneer at her, call her Ash-Maiden or 
Cinderella, and drive her back. Soon it came 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 45 

to pass that Cinderella’s pretty hair became 
tousled and her face, hands, and clothes all 
smutty.” 

Here Ljuben stopped in pretended weari- 
ness. 

“ Now, no pretense, Ljuben,” exclaimed 
little Donka, who was also listening. 

“Why! do you want to hear any more?” 
asked Ljuben, as if surprised. 

“ Yes, yes, we like it as well as Donka,” re- 
sponded a laughing chorus of girls. 

So, taking a deep breath, Ljuben contin- 
ued. 

“ One Sunday, when the step-mother and her 
daughter had dressed themselves in their best 
for church, the woman took a dish of millet and 
scattered it on the ground. Then, calling Marie, 
she bade her, on pain of death, to pick up every 
grain and have dinner ready by the time they 
returned. When they had left, Marie sat down 
and cried until she remembered what her mother 


46 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

had told her. Hastening to the grave, she knelt 
before it and prayed for help. 

“ Suddenly the grave opened and revealed 
a chest on which sat a snow-white dove. 

“ ‘ Dry your tears/ it cooed, ‘ I will do your 
work for you. Array yourself in some of the 
clothes you will find in the chest and go to 
church.’ 

“ Marie opened the chest and found it filled 
with the most beautiful of clothing. Hastily 
selecting some, she went indoors, washed her- 
self and combed her hair, and put on the clothes, 
which fitted her to perfection. As she caught a 
glimpse of herself in one of the pots which she 
had polished so highly, the vision was so pleas- 
ing it was with sparkling eyes that she made her 
way to the church. 

“ Her entry caused no small sensation. The 
Czar’s son, who was present, could not keep his 
eyes from her, so lovely was she. 

“ Just before the service closed, Marie slipped 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 47 

away and hastened home, where she found all 
the millet picked up and dinner waiting to be 
served. 

“ Changing her clothes, she carried the new 
ones back to the chest, which immediately dis- 
appeared. Then she tousled up her hair, put 
some smut on her face, and awaited in a de- 
jected attitude, but with inward excitement, the 
return of her step-mother. 

“ Great was their astonishment, when she and 
her daughter arrived, at seeing the picked up 
millet and also the very nice dinner. Scarcely 
paying any attention to Cinderella, they sat 
down to eat, their conversation being almost en- 
tirely of the stranger. 

“ 1 You ought to have seen her, Cinderella,’ 
at last the step-daughter condescended to say. 

“ 4 I did see her,’ responded Cinderella, at 
which the others laughed. 

“ The next Sunday, as the step-mother was 
leaving with her daughter for church, she took 


48 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

a much larger pan of millet than the week be- 
fore and, scattering it over the ground, bade 
Cinderella pick up every grain, and have din- 
ner by the time they returned, if she valued 
her life. 

“ No sooner were they out of sight than 
Cinderella arose, and went to pray on her 
mother’s grave. Again the grave opened, re- 
vealing the chest and the dove. 

“ ‘ Fear not,’ it cooed. ‘ Choose your clothes 
and go to church.’ 

“ This time Cinderella selected a beautiful 
gown embroidered with the purest of silver. 
After making herself clean and braiding her 
long hair, she put on the exquisite gown and 
hastened to church. 

“ Again her entry caused a sensation, and the 
son of the Czar thought he had never seen one 
so sweet and beautiful. 

“ Before the close of the service, Cinderella 
again slipped away, hurried home, changed her 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 49 

clothes, and ruffled her hair. Every grain of 
millet was back in the pan, and an excellent 
dinner was ready to be served. 

“ This time the amazement of the step- 
mother was so great that she dropped breath- 
lessly into a chair, but, before she could make 
any comment, the smell of the good food drew 
her to the table, where her daughter had pre- 
ceded her. 

“ The following Sunday she scattered millet 
around from a pan three times as large, with 
the ironical remark that, since Cinderella was 
so good at handling things in the dirt, she would 
give her an additional pleasure. Then, with the 
same threat as on the preceding Sunday, they 
departed. 

“ Cinderella quickly took a bath, brushed her 
long hair and then hastened to her mother’s 
grave. Scarcely had she uttered her short 
prayer than it opened and the chest and dove 
were revealed. 


50 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

“ ‘ I’ll do the work, Cinderella,’ it cooed. 

‘ Choose your gown and go to church.’ 

“ This time she picked out the prettiest she 
saw, embroidered richly in the purest of gold. 
After arraying herself in it, she went to 
church, where her entry again caused a sen- 
sation. 

“ The Czar’s son resolved that he would fol- 
low her, since he could learn in no other way 
who she was or whence she came. When it was 
time to leave she hastened out, with the Czar’s 
son behind. Suddenly, the straps of one of her 
sandals became loose. She was about to stop 
to re-fasten it when, turning, she found herself 
followed. In her anxiety to escape she drew 
her foot from the sandal and ran on. 

“ The Czar’s son stopped to pick it up. His 
doing so gave her the start she needed and she 
was soon out of sight. 

“ When her step-mother and sister came 
home their amazement exceeded all bounds at 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 51 

finding the house in order, a splendid dinner 
cooked, and every grain of millet picked up. 

“ ‘ We must look into this next week,’ the 
step-mother at last exclaimed. 

“ But, before next week came, other things 
happened. The Czar’s son published a procla- 
mation that he would marry any one who could 
wear the sandal he had found. He at once set 
out visiting cottage after cottage, and trying the 
sandal on all the womenfolks. But it would fit 
none of them. 

“ At last he came to Cinderella’s home. 
Cinderella, knowing that he was coming, had 
washed her face and hands and braided her 
luxuriant hair. When her step-mother, who 
also was eagerly awaiting the Prince, saw her 
thus transformed, she was startled and then 
alarmed at the possible effect of her beauty. 
The Czar’s son was already at the gate, and, 
seeing no other way to get rid of her, she 
angrily commanded her to get under a trough. 


52 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

“ Scarcely had Cinderella done so than the 
young man entered. The step-mother hoped by 
flattery to make him think the sandal fitted her 
daughter, but he was too much in earnest to be 
misled, for it was much too short and narrow. 
He was about to leave when a dove flew upon 
the trough. 

“ ‘ Coo ! Coo ! ’ it said, ‘ there’s another here 
whom the sandal fits.’ 

“ The Czarevitch turned inquiringly to the 
step-mother, but she assured him there was no 
one else. Then the dove again cooed: 

“ ‘ There’s some one hidden under the 
trough.’ 

“ Anxious to learn the truth, the young man 
stooped and discovered Cinderella. He bade 
her come out and, when he saw her sweet and 
beautiful face, knew it was the same that he 
had seen in the church. Begging her to let him 
try on the sandal, he knelt before her and placed 
it on her little, slender foot. 


The Bulgarian Cinderella 53 

“ It fitted perfectly. Without arising, he 
asked her to go away with him as his bride and, 
on her laying her hand in his, led her joyfully 
to the splendid carriage awaiting him; and she 
lived to become one of the great Czarinas of the 
world.” 


CHAPTER VII 


SCHOOL DAYS AND HOLIDAYS 

That autumn and winter it seemed to Ljuben 
that school had never been so interesting before, 
and this feeling was shared by the other boys 
and girls who made it easy and pleasant for the 
schoolmaster by their eagerness to learn. This 
schoolmaster was a graduate of Robert College, 
a school founded by an American at Constanti- 
nople, in Turkey. The teacher was an ardent 
patriot whose life had been rather an eventful 
one, for, when a mere youth, he had been a 
member ( chetnik ) of a company of Macedonian 
insurgents, and more than once had barely es- 
caped being killed by the Turks. 

While at college he had made a specialty of 
chemistry, and so successfully that he was of- 
fered an excellent position at Gabrovo, where 

54 


School Days and Holidays 55 

the first Bulgarian school was opened, in 1835. 
He refused this lucrative position, however, pre- 
ferring that of village schoolteacher in the place 
where he was born and where he had lately in- 
herited eighteen acres on the death of his father. 
He did this because he intended devoting most 
of his spare time to the cultivation of this land, 
not so much for the profit to be derived from it 
as because he hoped thus to introduce modern 
methods of cultivating the soil in place of the 
very primitive ones generally employed by the 
peasants. 

Partly through the influence of his pupils, 
some of the most progressive of the villagers 
had lately discarded the heavy mediaeval 
plough, which their ancestors had used, for one 
more modern. At first the peasants, who in 
Bulgaria are an exceedingly thrifty class, grum- 
bled at the expense, which seemed to them use- 
less, for the old plough, carefully managed, had 
really brought fair profits. But, when they saw 


56 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

with their own eyes the saving in time and 
labor, they hesitated no longer. 

It was through this teacher that the pupils 
came to have a healthy, good-natured rivalry 
in daily discovering something new about their 
surroundings. School hours were by no means 
devoted simply to book lessons. Considerable 
time was spent in discussing anything of gen- 
eral interest. One day it might be a new 
method of exterminating some particularly per- 
sistent weed, the next, the habits of the eagles, 
vultures or other large birds so frequently seen ; 
or some child might be allowed to relate briefly 
some new experience with a wolf, bear or deer 
in the mountains; or a new herb might be 
brought in, classified, and its curative virtues 
discussed. These digressions, which appealed 
so strongly to the children’s interests seemed, 
strangely enough, to make time rather than 
take up time. 

There were plenty of church holidays, when 


School Days and Holidays 57 

both young and old went to church and, after- 
wards, took long walks or played on the village 
green. Sometimes, before the weather had be- 
come too cold, they danced the choro, the Bul- 
garian national dance, keeping time to a dan- 
cing song, or the weird strains of a trio com- 
posed of the gaida, 1 the gusla, and a reed-pipe 
or flute. 

Wrestling was a favorite sport, not only on 
holidays but also on week days, with the boys, 
who prided themselves on their strength and 
agility. Ljuben seemed strangely fond of 
matching his skill against a broad-shouldered, 
muscular boy named Peter, two years his senior, 
who never failed to throw him. Ljuben secretly 
hoped, every time, for better success, but in 
vain. His pluck was admired, but, one day, 
he surprised everybody by declaring that he had 
made a vow to his patron saint not to wrestle 
for a whole week. 


1 The Bulgarian bagpipe. 


58 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

“ Wonder what’s the matter with Ljuben,” 
the boys asked one another, deciding finally that 
he had grown tired of being thrown. Some- 
what to their surprise, he showed, if anything, 
an increased interest in the sport, and particu- 
larly, it seemed, in Peter’s victories. When- 
ever the latter would find some one to engage 
with him, Ljuben was sure to be in the near 
background as a rapt spectator. When the 
week was over he announced that he was ready 
to meet any one. Soon he and Peter were 
clasped together in a contest for victory. Quite 
a crowd of boys had gathered through interest 
in Ljuben’s return to their ranks. They specu- 
lated on how Ljuben would now take being 
pitched over, when, to the surprise of every one, 
instead of Peter throwing Ljuben, Ljuben threw 
Peter! During the week he had learned his 
lesson ! 

When not wrestling the boys were very 
fond of playing “ Fighting the Turks.” They 


School Days and Holidays 59 

would divide into two bands, Ljuben being 
pretty sure to be at the head of one, for his 
powers of imagination made him a natural 
leader. The bands took turns in being Turks, 
a necessity through their hatred of the very 
name. 

But, in this little primitive village, as else- 
where, the holiday of holidays, looked forward 
to, was Christmas. The old style of reckoning 
time being still used in Bulgaria, as it is in 
Russia, it comes about two weeks later than with 
us. Donka and the other children spent the 
week preceding it in making pretty little whips, 
adorned with the national colors of white, green 
and red. When Christmas came they marched 
with these from house to house. When they 
were admitted, they raised their whips threaten- 
ingly. 

“ Spare us,” the mother or older daughter 
would hasten to say, and quickly pass around a 
plate of Christmas goodies. These were never 


60 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

refused, and then, with many good wishes, the 
party would continue on their way. 

When every house had been visited, the chil- 
dren would play games, or have an egg-rolling 
contest not unlike those held in some countries 
at Easter. 

After the holidays the weather turned un- 
usually cold, but, although there were more in- 
door duties for the women and girls, such as 
weaving and spinning, the boys spent most 
of the time, when not in school, out of 
doors. 

During February there was quite an exciting 
time, for the mountain wolves, emboldened by 
hunger, actually ventured into the village one 
night and carried away two sheep. Greater pre- 
cautions against them had to be taken, and 
Ljuben helped some of his friends set two or 
three wolf traps, which, however, were success- 
fully avoided. 

One day, Peter, Ljuben’s rival in wrestling, 


School Days and Holidays 6 1 

came near having a rather serious accident. He 
was returning from an errand in the mountains 
when he stepped on a trap and in consequence 
almost lost one of his toes. 


CHAPTER VIII 


UNEXPECTED GUESTS 

One evening, two or three months after the 
Christmas holidays, as Ljuben and his parents 
and grandparents were seated around the table 
on the balcony, beginning their evening meal, 
the dogs in the court below set up a loud bark- 
ing, which suddenly changed into whinings of 
joy. Ljuben’s father hastily descended the now 
completed new staircase, and a moment after 
they heard him give an exclamation of surprise 
and pleasure. When he returned he was fol- 
lowed by a tall, handsome young woman dressed 
simply, but in city fashion, in a very dusty and 
somewhat shabby suit of gray. 

“ Cousin Rada ! ” the boy shouted with en- 
thusiasm as the family gathered around her, all 

62 


Unexpected Guests 63 

trying to grasp her hands at once, with even 
the baby showing signs of joy. A place at the 
table was hastily laid for her and her hat re- 
moved. Laughing, she begged for the privilege 
of washing her hands before sitting down, and, 
when this had been done, and she had taken her 
place among them, all began to question her at 
once. 

This very welcome visitor was Dr. Rada 
Grueff, a cousin of Ljuben’s father. She was 
a graduate in medicine of the University at 
Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria. A Macedonian 
by birth, she had been devoting herself since her 
graduation to the Macedonian cause, visiting 
the villages and giving her services free wher- 
ever needed. In consequence she was almost 
revered as a saint by the village folks of Mace- 
donia, who, under the Turkish rule, are far be- 
hind their fellow countrymen in Bulgaria in 
civilization. It was known, too, that she some- 
times acted as messenger between the bands of 


64 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

insurgents who sought to right the wrongs in- 
flicted by the Turks. 

She always travelled well armed. More 
than once she had been in danger of her life; 
but she knew no fear. Once, when the leader 
of one of these chetnik bands had been killed 
and the men were at a loss how to escape, she 
had placed herself at their head and led them 
to safety. 

To Ljuben she was the most wonderful per- 
son he had ever known, and he always listened 
breathlessly to all that she had to say. He, in 
turn, was a great favorite with her. 

“ I am wondering where your little horse can 
be,” remarked Ljuben’s father, half interroga- 
tively. “ You always seemed to me insepa- 
rable.” 

A shadow passed over the visitor’s face. 
“ Dead,” she said quietly, and for a few mo- 
ments sat silent before explaining. 

“ Up in the Rhodope Mountains, my bravo 


Unexpected Guests 65 

little horse and I were fearing pursuit. As we 
struggled up a cattle trail, Dimka, usually so 
sure-footed, slipped on a bit of sleet and, before 
she could regain her balance, fell, throwing me. 
I got up as quickly as possible and found that 
she had broken a leg. There was only one 
thing to be done. Fortunately my pistols are 
always loaded.” 

No one spoke for several minutes. Then the 
grandmother glanced keenly at the visitor. 
“And you, yourself?” she queried. 

“ Oh, I had my usual luck and came away 
with only these bruises,” and she carelessly 
pointed to a deep scar on her hand and another 
rather dangerous-looking one back of her ear. 

“ It was slower work, but really easier, to 
make my way on foot. I know the mountains 
so well. I passed within sight of a Turkish 
camp one night, but ” — and she shrugged her 
shoulders — “I didn’t do them any harm!” 
and she laughed. She seemed always ready to 


66 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

laugh, although her youthful face had already 
lines of sorrow. “ But,” she went on, “ don’t 
keep me talking about myself. You haven’t 
asked me for the news, and I’m full of it.” 

“ We’re anxious to hear it,” responded 
Ljuben’s father, his face expressive of interest 
and genuine regard. “ It’s a long time since 
you were here.” 

“ I’ll give you the big news first, then,” she 
replied, lifting the baby in her arms. “ You 
are all to prepare to welcome twelve men, 
women, and children to-morrow.” 

The faces of the older people became serious. 
The grandfather shook his head. “ More 
exiles?” he asked, sadly. 

“ Yes,” said Dr. Rada, now grave. “ Exiles 
who have been living for weeks on what poor 
shepherds and woodchoppers could give them. 
I left most of them at Phillipopolis, but, these 
being my especial proteges, I brought them to 
you.” 


Unexpected Guests 67 

“ Sad people ! ” said the father with unaf- 
fected sympathy. “ Tell us their story. We’ll 
do what we can for them.” 

“ Their story,” said Cousin Rada with a sigh, 
“is one like many you know — the refusal to 
pay excessive taxes, the charge of harboring in- 
surgents, and the consequent burning of their 
homes.” 

She stopped, compressed her lips together so 
tightly that the sad, tense lines in her face made 
it look strangely hardened. 

No one spoke. Then Dr. Rada’s face re- 
laxed ; she arose, placed the baby in its 
hammock, yawned, and stretched out her 
arms. 

“ I can’t tell you how much I’ll appreciate 
your nice bed to-night,” she said. “ I haven’t 
slept in one for a week.” 

“ And you shall go right to bed now,” said 
the mother, taking hold of her arm and leading 
her away. 


68 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

As soon as Ljuben awoke the next morning 
he remembered that his cousin was with them, 
and he wondered how long she would stay and 
what new stories she would have to tell him. 
When he left his room he found her already up 
and in the courtyard feeding the oxen and frol- 
icking like a child with the dogs. 

“ You have grown, Ljuben,” she said, smi- 
ling brightly on him when he came up. “ And 
I am glad, for I have a plan in regard 
to you; but don’t expect to hear it this 
morning.” 

Ljuben smiled back, and wanted to know if 
she would visit the school. 

“ Perhaps,” she replied, “ for I must see the 
schoolmaster about my exiles. But, whether I 
do or not, I won’t forget your examina- 
tion!” 

He knew what this meant; it was a very 
severe quizzing, which his cousin never failed 
to give him when she came, and he shrugged his 


Unexpected Guests 69 

shoulders because she expected it and not be- 
cause he objected. In reality he liked it, as he 
did everything which his cousin did or sug- 
gested. 

When he was ready for school she accom- 
panied him as far as Donka’s house, where she 
intended making a morning call. Early as it 
was, she was warmly welcomed by the mother 
and older daughter, Jelena, and taken into the 
best room, where she was soon seated among 
cushions on a divan extending along one wall. 
After a few preliminaries, Jelena disappeared, 
but soon returned with a platter on which was a 
big bunch of grapes, that had been kept through 
the winter, and a glass of water. It was cus- 
tomary to offer some such refreshments to a 
guest, and the grapes, despite their dried up 
stems and somewhat wrinkled appearance, were 
such a luxury that Cousin Rada was glad to 
accept them. Jelena and her mother had their 
sewing, on which they worked while conversing. 


70 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

The father came in shortly after, and together 
they discussed the best methods of caring for 
the refugees. 

“ Every one will want to do something,” he 
declared, so it was decided that he and Dr. 
Rada should visit every home, that morning, 
with the news. 

There was a welcome awaiting them every- 
where, and everywhere warm sympathy was ex- 
pressed for the Macedonians, who were ex- 
pected early that afternoon. Sometimes Dr. 
Rada was not allowed to leave until she had in- 
spected the store-houses with their abundance, 
sometimes not until after she had partaken of 
some food. 

Instead of the early afternoon, it was not 
until towards evening that a weary-looking lot 
of pilgrims came straggling into the village. 
Two of them were young girls with babies 
strapped on their back; one of these had her 
arm in a sling, for the Turks had fired on them 


Unexpected Guests 71 

as they fled, and some of the shots had 
taken effect. There were several very old 
men and women, too, and one fine-looking 
boy with his head bandaged, so feeble that he 
arrived only through the assistance of two 
comrades. 

The whole village turned out to welcome 
them, and the pitiable state they were in soon 
made it plain why they had been especially 
selected by Dr. Rada as her proteges. 

It was not long before all had been parcelled 
out among the village folks, the sick boy falling 
to Ljuben’s household, foj* Cousin Rada au- 
thoritatively declared that he demanded the 
most attention, and that she wished to be near 
him until he was either out of danger or could 
be removed to a hospital. 

Ljuben had gladly given up his own room 
to the stranger, who won his heart by the pa- 
tient, uncomplaining look of his eyes. It proved 
to be for a full month, during which the youth 


72 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

slowly grew stronger, not only because of the 
excellent care he received, but also because of 
the kind, thoughtful atmosphere of his tempo- 
rary home. 


CHAPTER IX 


COUSIN RADA 

It was not until Dr. Rada felt that it was 
safe to leave her charges more to themselves 
that she divulged the plan of which she had 
given a slight hint to Ljuben when she came. 
It was a great and exciting surprise — she 
wanted him to come the following month to 
Sofia with her! Ljuben could hardly believe it 
to be true, and asked her several times if she 
really meant it. His mother shared his pleas- 
ure, but his father looked grave when Dr. Rada 
spoke to him of it, and said that he would have 
to seriously consider it before giving, or with- 
holding, consent. 

But Ljuben knew that whatever his cousin 
wanted was pretty sure of being carried out, and 

he felt a strange happiness at his good fortune, 
73 


74 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

which made him unusually patient with his little 
baby sister and considerate towards his friends 
in school. He now saw more of his cousin, who 
worked in the fields or rambled over the hills 
with him. 

She had many stories to tell him of her own 
experiences. His interest in the refugees led 
her to explain how the more fanatical of the 
Turks had tried again and again to exterminate 
the Christians who lived among them; and she 
had much to say, too, in praise of the men who 
took upon themselves the righting of these 
wrongs. She dwelt on their kindness to one 
another. 

“ It is true,” she confessed, rather reluctantly, 
“ that sometimes they have been tempted too 
far, and driven into outrages similar to those 
perpetrated by their enemies; but, in judging 
them, one should remember that it would hardly 
be human not to retaliate sometimes in kind.” 

Many were the heroes of whom she spoke, 


Cousin Rada 75 

who had lost their lives fighting against the 
Turks, men whose motto was “ Liberty or 
Death ! ” men of high courage and daring, 
living the simple lives of old-time knights. 
Among them all Ljuben liked best to hear of 
the great lyric poet and revolutionist, Christo 
Boteff. 

Boteff was born in Calofer, a little mountain 
town surrounded by a forest, near the valley of 
damask roses. This place, named after a 
famous haiduc or insurgent leader, had proudly 
and successfully maintained a certain amount 
of independence, of which her sons were justly 
proud. Fed from childhood on tales of Turkish 
atrocities, it was no w T onder that, when he 
reached early manhood, the poet should have 
become voivode (leader) of a band of insur- 
gents. With a life of exceptional promise be- 
fore him, Boteff fell in battle when less than 
thirty years of age. 

So beloved was he for his life, as well as for 


76 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

the noble verses he wrote in favor of freedom, 
that, after his death, his name was adopted by 
the bands ( chetas ) as a countersign. One of 
his best poems is an ode commemorating the 
death of a dear friend, Haji Dimitr, also a 
leader of insurgents. 

The teacher of the village school had had 
each child memorize a stanza from the poem, 
and Ljuben had chosen the following: 

“ Who falls in fight for liberty’s dear sake 
Can never die; heaven weeps for him, and earth; 
Nature herself; the woodland creatures make 
Hymns in his honor; poets sing his worth.” 

Dr. Rada had Boteff’s poems with her, and 
those of Petko Slaveikoff, warrior as well as 
poet, and also a book by Ivan Vazoff, who not 
only wrote poems but was also the most distin- 
guished of Bulgarian novelists. She read 
Ljuben some humorous extracts from the latter, 
and also other selections filled with the loftiest 
of patriotism. 


Cousin Rada 


77 

“ Vazoff knew the Turks,” Cousin Rada 
told Ljuben, “ for his own father had been 
put to death by them. As long as Christians 
remain governed by Turkey there must,” she 
contended, “ be enmity between them, because 
of their irreconcilable conceptions of life.” 
Then she continued, more as if speaking to her- 
self than to a child: “ Yes, we hate the Turks. 
And haven’t we a right? When they have 
robbed us of our best and have kept in every 
possible way from us the civilization for which 
we hunger.” 

These long talks, full of significance to the 
young boy, were destined to make a deep and 
lasting impression on his life. 

So interested was Ljuben in all that his cousin 
had to say that he usually forgot to ask the 
questions about Sofia that he had intended. 
When, finally, he did so, his cousin smilingly 
shook her head and placed her finger on her 
lips. Another time, she dismissed him with 


78 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

“ I don’t think I have quite talked it all over 
with your father yet.” 

Ljuben’s consolation, after such rebuffs, was 
in turning to his little geography or questioning 
his teacher about the “ wonderful ” city he was 
to see. 

Ljuben was now a very interesting person in 
the eyes of his schoolmates, not one of whom 
was older than twelve years, but, as he belonged 
in a measure to Dr. Rada, whom they knew and 
loved, it seemed to them fitting that such good 
fortune should have come to him. 

At length, after Ljuben’s father had given 
his consent, and the slight preparations neces- 
sary for the journey were being made, a certain 
fear crept unexpectedly over the little boy at the 
thought of his new life among strangers, and, 
for a few minutes every night at bedtime, he 
almost regretted the great opportunity be- 
cause it involved leaving the home he loved 
so well. 


Cousin Rada 


79 

But, during the day, in the company of his 
playmates, these fears were forgotten. 

It happened that Donka and Jelena’s father 
wished to take some produce to Phillipopolis 
about the time that Dr. Rada and Ljuben were 
to leave, and he sent word that he would be 
very glad to have them go with him that far. 
From Phillipopolis they could go to Sofia by 
train. So plans were made accordingly, and 
time now seemed to fly until the red letter day 
came. Then, somehow, despite his anticipa- 
tions, Ljuben felt a moisture in his eyes when 
his mother kissed him an affectionate good-bye, 
looking at him so proudly as he appeared in his 
best homespun clothes and sheepskin coat and 
new fur kalpak (hat) . She bade him be a good 
boy, write often, and obey Cousin Rada in 
everything. His father, too, looked unusually 
grave as he shook his hand and bade him keep 
his eyes open and learn all he could. Probably 
the tears would have come had not the children, 


80 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

released from school, come running up, Donka 
far in the lead. 

The cart in which they were to travel was of 
the usual primitive kind, but all were so used 
to it that it did not occur to any one to comment 
on possible discomfort. It was piled up so high 
in the back with produce that it looked top- 
heavy, and a foreigner, seeing its heavy, wobbly 
wheels, would have claimed that it could not 
possibly reach its destination. 

Instead of oxen, there were harnessed to it 
two buffaloes with their heads held characteris- 
tically low and noses thrust far forward. They 
were highly prized by their owner for their 
great strength and patience. The early spring 
had as usual brought heavy rains, and so both 
great virtues would have to be exercised by 
them on the muddy roads before their destina- 
tion was reached. Their broad splay feet, how- 
ever, made it very much easier for them than it 
would have been for oxen. 


Cousin Rada 


81 


Before they could start they found that not 
only the children, but most of the village, were 
determined to see them leave. Many pressed 
tiny gifts into Ljuben’s hands; some begged 
to be remembered with picture post cards, and 
several of the women kissed him, to his no small 
embarrassment. At last, when they thought 
they had really started, several shouted to them 
to wait, and, looking back, they saw the priest 
of the village church come running up in his 
long black flapping gown and funny hat, which 
looked as if the brim was on the top. 

With his blessing, and a last long backward 
glance at Ljuben’s father and mother, who were 
waving to them, they slowly drove out of the 
village. 


CHAPTER X 


SOFIA 

For the first mile or two Ljuben could not 
speak, but sat staring abstractedly ahead. The 
others were quite aware of what was passing in 
his mind, and carried on an animated conversa- 
tion about trivial matters. Dr. Rada, it seemed, 
was particularly interested in the care required 
by the buffaloes who, despite their rugged looks, 
are very delicate creatures. 

Before Phillipopolis was reached the crisp 
spring air helped Ljuben in the recovery of his 
spirits, and, when they were left at the station, 
where their train was soon due, he gave their 
friend a smiling farewell. 

Ljuben never remembered much about that 
first train ride, except an undefinable fear that 

something unwelcome might happen. His aunt 
82 


Sofia 


83 


once called his attention to a ruined military 
station, and explained that formerly there had 
been many of these constructed by the Turks as 
shelters to troops on the march ; but his eyelids 
were drooping so suspiciously that she smiled 
at the evident reason for his lack of interest. 
Soon, strange as it afterwards seemed to him, 
big boy as he considered himself, he fell asleep, 
and only awoke after Cousin Rada had whis- 
pered “ Sofia ! Sofia ! Sofia ! ” several times in 
his ear. 

It was dusk when they alighted, and the first 
thing he noticed was the many uniformed 
and armed policemen, some mounted and some 
on foot, and the many splendid-looking army 
officers. 

A very pleasant-looking woman, whose rich, 
though strikingly plain, costume contrasted with 
Dr. Rada’s inexpensive, travel-stained one, met 
them and impulsively threw her arms around 
Dr. Rada’s neck. She clasped Ljuben’s hand 


84 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

warmly and then led them to a phaeton stand- 
ing near. As they drove along the wide, pros- 
perous-looking streets, well lit by electricity, 
his cousin explained that the lady was Lalka 
Slavieff, with whom they were to make their 
home. 

When they reached the rather large, but un- 
pretentious house, with many shuttered win- 
dows, and a row of trees in front, and had en- 
tered, they found a French dinner awaiting 
them. 

“ Tut, tut, Lalka,” said Dr. Rada, reprov- 
ingly, “ why will you go to this expense? You 
know that our simple Bulgarian cookery is 
more to my liking and better for your health, 
too.” 

But Lalka Slavieff did not mind. “ You need 
a change, Rada,” she retorted, “ such as you 
yourself so often recommend to your pa- 
tients.” 

Dr. Rada laughed and, taking Ljuben’s hand, 


Sofia 85 

led him to the table. At first Ljuben felt awk- 
ward, but it was not long before he had entirely 
forgotten himself in his interest in the conversa- 
tion. 

When they had arisen from the table, his new 
friend showed him a pleasant little room with a 
comfortable divan and a beautifully carved bed, 
piled high with big feather comforts, which was 
to be his own, and where he saw his valise had 
already been placed. Then she led him to a 
larger room, near by, with hardwood polished 
floor, a tall red and white tiled stove, and walls 
lined with books. French, Russian and Bul- 
garian magazines lay on the table. 

“ Some friends are going to call to see your 
cousin to-night,” she said; “but we know you 
are tired and we want you to stay here for 
awhile, and then go to bed when you like. 
While you are here, this room is to be yours, 
to use whenever you desire,” and, with a pat on 
his shoulder, she left him. 


86 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

To Ljuben, with his fondness for study, this 
seemed like fairyland, and he greedily tried to 
examine several books and several periodicals 
at once. After a time, he felt calm again, and 
settled down to actually reading. So absorbed 
did he become in this sudden acquisition of new 
treasure that it was not until his eyes refused to 
stay open that he stumbled sleepily across the 
hallway to bed. 

The next day was Friday, and early in the 
morning Ljuben accompanied his cousin to the 
Market Place that she might select what was 
needed for the week, and at the same time give 
the little stranger his first glimpse of a big city. 
On the way they passed by the handsome Royal 
Palace, approached by a beautiful portico. It 
stands in the middle of large grounds, from 
which the broad streets of the city radiate. 
Ljuben saw, too, the Officers’ Club and War 
Department, which testify to the prominent 
part in public life played by the army. 



66 


THERE WERE BULGARIAN PEASANT WOMEN DRESSED 
LIKE THOSE HE KN&W AT HOME.” 



Sofia 87 

At the Market Place they found a most cos- 
mopolitan gathering of peasants, all dressed in 
gala attire, and heard a remarkable mixture of 
tongues. Besides Bulgarians there were Ser- 
vians, Montenegrins, Russians, Roumanians, 
Greeks, Albanians, and Jews. 

There were Bulgarian peasant women dressed 
like those he knew at home; there were others 
with long white petticoats and fancy aprons; 
and still others with narrow blue skirts and 
fancy parasols and many gay ribbons. There 
were peasant men, too, with heavy sheepskin 
coats and baggy trousers that grew tighter be- 
low the knee, and rawhide sandals laced with 
leather thongs. Some wore highly embroidered 
shirts open at the necks, the national colors of 
white, green, and red being especially in evi- 
dence. 

Produce of all kinds lay in heaps on the 
ground, or in baskets or piled neatly on stands. 
Early as the season was, there were some im- 


88 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

mense, luscious-looking strawberries to be had 
for only a few stotinkas. 1 

Not far from where these were displayed was 
an elderly, stolid-looking woman with live and 
dressed turkeys for sale. She wore a white 
kerchief tied tightly around her head, its long 
ends hanging down her back, and was dressed 
in white petticoat, blue skirt, and open sleeveless 
jacket. Others offered suckling pigs and tiny 
lambs; and of vegetables there was a great 
abundance, while butter, cheese, and eggs were 
to be had in plenty. 

When Cousin Rada’s market basket was 
filled with all that was needed, they started 
back. 

“ The Market Place,” she remarked, “ will 
be quite empty late this afternoon and ready for 
the weekly scrub which it never fails to get.” 

When they reached home, Cousin Rada 
pointed out majestic Mt. Vitosch. It rises up 

1 A stotinka is about one-fifth of one cent. 


Sofia 89 

like a fortification at the west and south of the 
city. 

“We all love Mt. Vitosch,” she exclaimed, 
“ and study it like a barometer. When its sum- 
mit is a hard white, we know that it will be 
colder. When there are signs of the snow on 
the summit melting, warmer weather is certain.” 

After that, Ljuben never failed to observe it, 
and delight in the great variety of its aspects. 
It seemed to him most beautiful at night when 
the moon shone on its crest, and the stars seemed 
to rest in the blue haze surrounding it. 

In the afternoon, on their way to one of the 
parks, Ljuben was much interested in a group 
of schoolchildren dressed in the prescribed 
school uniform, which is only worn in the cities. 
Then, while they rested on a bench under a big 
oak tree, Dr. Rada talked of Sofia and its an- 
cient history, telling Ljuben that it had been 
captured by the Bulgarians as early as the year 
809 A. D. She spoke also of the wonderful 


90 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

progress it had made in every way of late years, 
pointing out a poorly constructed house which 
thirty years ago had been considered the finest 
in the city, and had been occupied by the Russian 
Consul-General. 

“ It was the finest,” she added, “ because 
most of the others were mud huts. We are 
proving to the world what freedom can do for 
a nation, as well as that we had some right in 
demanding our freedom.” 

From the park, with the broad, fine streets 
surrounding it, they went to the narrow, crooked 
streets of the old quarter, which is slowly dis- 
appearing. Here were different trades more or 
less grouped together, a section for shoemakers, 
another for furriers, etc. There were a few 
Turkish bazaars, too, presided over by indolent- 
looking Mussulmans in Turkish costume, and 
now and then one caught a glimpse of a heavily 
veiled Oriental woman with baggy bloomers 
and curved-toed slippers. 


Here, as well as in the modern section, most 
of the lettering on the shops was in queer-look- 
ing Cyrillic characters. 

As they started back, they stepped for a 
moment into the magnificent Cathedral of St. 
Alexander, built to commemorate the Russian 
Czar who helped the Bulgarians secure freedom 
from Turkish rule. Ljuben crossed himself 
devoutly before some of the ikons, or sacred 
pictures. On coming out, Dr. Rada called 
Ljuben’s attention to another monument, a mass 
of square stones, on each of which the names of 
several Russian physicians who fell in the Russo- 
Turkish war, thousands in all, are inscribed. At 
the top of this beautiful mass is a big sar- 
cophagus. 

Later, they passed down the Czar Liberator 
Street, one of the best-paved streets in the city. 
On it, in a great square, Ljuben saw the eques- 
trian statue of Alexander II, another monument 
to the “ Liberator.” 


92 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

As they thus wandered about, Cousin Rada 
answered all of Ljuben’s many questions, which 
she encouraged. At last, tired, they paused 
for a moment on the beautiful stone bridge 
called the Lion’s Bridge, and then boarded an 
electric car for home. 


CHAPTER XI 


NEW SCENES AND ACQUAINTANCES 

Within the next few weeks Ljuben had an 
opportunity to see many of the noted men and 
women of Sofia, and to come in contact with an 
exalted patriotism which did not exhaust itself 
in words, but expressed itself in deeds. Among 
his cousin’s many friends were men of letters, 
physicians, and statesmen, all simple in their 
intercourse, exceedingly democratic and unas- 
suming. There were Macedonian insurgent 
leaders, also, these latter possessing perhaps the 
greatest interest for the boy. 

One day his cousin pointed out on the street 
the Prime Minister of Bulgaria, talking in a 
most confidential manner with a man in peasant 
costume. “ We can well be proud,” his cousin 
remarked, “ of our democratic spirit. We are 

93 


94 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

called a nation of peasants and we like the 
name, for, thank Heaven! we are proving the 
possibilities existing in those of the humblest 
origin.” 

Then she told him that, after emancipation 
from the Turks came, when the first National 
Assembly met in the old capital of Tirnova, it 
was made up largely of peasants, the sheepskin 
clothes, which some of them still wore, winning 
them none the less respect. 

“ We have no titles of nobility,” Lalka Slavieff 
once said to him, “ but every man is given an 
opportunity to ennoble himself through devo- 
tion to his country and high ideals.” 

Among Ljuben’s younger acquaintances was 
Nicola Rilski, the son of a famous folk-lorist, 
a boy about twelve years of age, short, but 
strong and very active. There was an immedi- 
ate recognition of kinship between them, and, 
as they were thrown considerably in one an- 
other’s company, they came to have many de- 


New Scenes and Acquaintances 95 

lightful rambles together in the neighborhood 
of the Capitol. 

Ljuben also accompanied Nicola and his 
father on a longer expedition, to which Dr. 
Rada gladly consented because of the educa- 
tional value it would have for the lad. 

At the start they passed many fine vineyards 
and splendid-looking fields of grain, all giving 
proof of unceasing industry. In one of the lat- 
ter the boys, who had been left for a few 
minutes to themselves, caught a glimpse of two 
little children playing a game that seemed to be 
of great import. 

“ Look! ” said Nicola. “ Let’s watch those 
tots. Perhaps we’ll be able to surprise my father 
with a new bit of child folk-lore.” 

“Agreed!” responded Ljuben, and they 
crept up as near as they dared without risking 
discovery. To their disappointment and amuse- 
ment they found that the children were only 
playing that it was harvest-time and that they 


9 6 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

were cutting and gathering the grain. The 
older of the two pretended that a curved twig 
was the old-fashioned hand-sickle which would 
probably be used when the grain was ripe, while 
the younger was tying up bits of grass into tiny 
sheaves. Near the latter lay her doll, and, 
every now and then, the little girl walked up to 
it and bent lovingly over it, just as she had per- 
haps seen her mother watch over a baby brother 
or sister during similar work. 

Boy-like, it occurred to Nicola that it would 
be fun to frighten the children. “ Let’s shout,” 
he whispered, “ and see them jump.” 

But Ljuben’s training with a baby sister had 
taught him gentleness. “ They’re too little,” 
he whispered back; “ better let them finish their 
play.” 

Nicola at once nodded. They crept back as 
they had come, and so quietly that the children 
continued happily ignorant of disturbing forces. 
The Professor joined them soon after and asked 


New Scenes and Acquaintances 97 

if they felt equal to a tramp of several hours 
into the Star a Planina (Old Mountains ). 1 

They responded heartily that they did, and 
soon all three were following a gradually as- 
cending trail into higher altitudes. By nightfall 
they had reached a magnificent forest of beech 
trees, near which was the cabin of a Balkan 
woodman, who came out to meet them, a 
bronzed, muscular, alert-looking man with leg- 
gings up to his knees and the usual rawhide 
sandals, and a dangerous-looking pistol in his 
belt. He at once placed everything he had at 
their disposal, seeming to find pleasure at this 
opportunity to oblige. 

After the rudely served, but plentiful, supper 
of fried eggs and peppers, rye bread, and sour 
milk, the slight feeling of weariness, with which 
the boys had reached the hut, entirely left them, 
and they engaged in a lively wrestling match. 
Then later, while they sat around the fire, they 
J The Bulgarian name for the Balkans. 


98 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

listened eagerly to the stories which the wood- 
man related of his experiences with wolves and 
their cunning, and other animals. When the 
Professor insisted that they turn in to sleep, 
they did so, totally unaware of the utter lack of 
comfort. 

They awoke early the next morning, and both 
ran shouting to wash at the little brook flowing 
back of the cabin. Immediately after breakfast, 
the Professor called out “ Forward ! March ! ” 
and they set out, the woodman accompanying 
them, to the nearest summit. Here, to their sur- 
prise, for the spring was already far advanced, 
they found some snow and ice in a sheltered 
crevice. 

The sun arose soon after, and they stopped 
for a moment to enjoy the beauty of the scene. 
They had entered a little elongated valley be- 
tween the wooded hills, which were dotted here 
and there with beautiful wild lilac. Suddenly, 
on a hillside above them, like an invocation to 



THE FIRST SOFT TONES SEEMED TO MELT INTO A 
BESEECHING PRAYER.” 

































































































. 


















New Scenes and Acquaintances 99 

the rising sun, arose the strains of a shepherd’s 
reed pipe. The first soft tones seemed to melt 
into a beseeching prayer; then gradually it 
seemed to the listeners that the musician was re- 
vealing his inner life, its utter, desperate lone- 
liness; then again he seemed merely to be repro- 
ducing the sad sighing of the wind in the tree- 
tops. Finally the weird music died in a low, 
melancholy wail. 

Two days later, after passing through an un- 
dulating country rich in vegetation, they reached 
the interesting old capital of Tirnova, where 
the Bulgarian czars have generally been 
crowned. Neither of the boys had ever been 
there, and they had much fun in gravely dis- 
cussing why the houses should be standing on 
one another’s shoulders. There was some rea- 
son for this pleasantry, for, from a distance, it 
does look as if each higher house were perched 
on the back of the roof of the house on the 
street below. The different buildings are all 


ioo Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

gaily painted, and, scattered among them, are 
many domes and minarets. Below flows the 
Jantra River, spanned by many bridges. 

They remained in the vicinity of Tirnova for 
several days, the boys making a botanical col- 
lection of grasses and flowers, among the latter 
being several varieties of the iris and tulip. 
Then they crossed the Balkans again, for the 
remainder of the vacation was to be spent in 
Southern Bulgaria. 

They did not walk all the way. At one time 
they took turns in riding on one of the small, 
intelligent Bulgarian ponies attached to a pack- 
train carrying merchandise, which was to be 
peddled in the hill districts. The merchants 
who had charge of this cargo looked almost 
like brigands, so many weapons did they carry 
in their belts. 

One day, when Ljuben and Nicola had run 
some distance ahead in an exceedingly lonely 
part of the mountains, and had stopped to gaze 


New Scenes and Acquaintances ioi 

at some vultures wheeling above their heads, 
they were accosted by two dark-skinned gipsies, 
“ Tsigane ” the boys called them, who had 
crept quietly up behind them. They were part 
of an encampment a short distance away. As 
these Tsigane bear an evil reputation, the boys 
were somewhat startled, despite the apparent 
friendliness of the usual greeting, “ Dobra 
den!” (Good day!) When the muscular, 
armed form of the Professor was seen ap- 
proaching, the gipsies carelessly strolled away. 

Near Gabrovo, with its brightly colored 
houses, they passed several women doing the 
family wash at a flowing stream. From there 
to Phillipopolis the country was quite well 
known to them all, and they hurried through it. 
From Phillipopolis, however, to the Rhodope 
Mountains, they found much to interest them. 

Near one of the villages through which they 
passed, Nicola suddenly punched Ljuben, whis- 
pering “ Let’s help her.” 


102 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

Ljuben saw a little barefoot girl trying to 
rescue a pig which had fallen into a rather deep 
crevice between some rocks. He signified assent 
by a nod, and together they managed to get out 
the squealing animal. Then Ljuben noticed 
that in her efforts the little girl had given her 
hand an ugly wound. It was typical of her 
nationality that she bore the pain without tears. 
Ljuben, with Cousin Rada in mind, insisted on 
her washing the wound in a near-by stream, 
and then letting him bandage it, using for the 
latter purpose, despite her timid expostulations, 
one of his own clean handkerchiefs. She was 
shyly grateful. 

They saw her once more, for it happened 
that they ate their dinner at her home, an 
orange-colored adobe house with a projecting 
upper story in which were heavy, odd gables. 

The girl’s father told them that a band of 
chetniks had passed through the village the day 
before, and that they had intimated that there 


New Scenes and Acquaintances 103 

was a possibility of war soon being declared 
with Turkey. 

The Professor did not seem surprised. “ Yes, 
I know,” he said; “but, when I think of the 
dead and dying, I hope that it may yet somehow 
be avoided.” 

The boys, who had been laughing a moment 
before, at once became grave. Children though 
they were, they had been too well schooled not 
to know what a war with Bulgaria’s old enemy 
would mean; not to know that every Bulgarian 
would adopt and live up to the chetnik motto: 
“ Liberty or Death! ” 


CHAPTER XII 


WAR RUMORS 

When they left the hospitable peasant home, 
and proceeded on their way into the Rhodope 
Mountains, they were all more serious than 
usual, and less alive to the grandeur of the 
rugged mountain scenery, with its dark ravines 
and swiftly flowing streams. Towards evening 
they reached the inn where they were to spend 
the night. It was a low, two-story building, 
with whitewashed walls inside and out. The 
door, opening directly from the street, led into 
a long, narrow room with a rough wooden floor 
and several dining tables, and other tables on 
which a sort of indoor game of ninepins could 
be played. A big picture of the reigning Czar 
hung in a conspicuous place at one end. 

104 


War Rumors 


105 

Chickens, and even pigs, were allowed free 
access, even when guests were at their meals. 

Around a small table, smoking, sat a small 
group of stolid-looking men, gravely discussing 
the prospects of war. When the Professor and 
his party joined them they immediately became 
silent, and nothing he could say drew more than 
monosyllables from them. Only when the land- 
lord, to whom Nicola’s father was no stranger, 
came up and vouched for him did they relax 
and tell what they knew. 

One of them, who had recently returned from 
the capital of Turkey, Constantinople, was 
eagerly listened to. The boys were anxious to 
learn all they could, but it was not until they 
were proceeding on their way, next morning, 
that they felt free to ask questions. 

The Professor explained that, while the civil- 
ized world is getting to look at war as a relic of 
barbarism, he believed nevertheless this war 
to be inevitable, for there seemed no other 


106 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

way to get justice done for fellow creatures of 
the same race as themselves. 

“ Had the great powers of Europe insisted 
that Turkey actually introduce the reforms 
long promised, it might have been avoided,” he 
said; “ but they are indifferent to our sufferings. 
No other course has been left but for us to offer 
our lives for freedom.” 

As they advanced through one of the numer- 
ous elevated passes, they came face to face with 
several Pomaks, or Bulgarians who are Mo- 
hammedans. These Pomaks were driving oxen 
harnessed to rude carts filled high with wool. 
Their dress was quite distinct from that of the 
ordinary Bulgarian peasant. They all wore 
gaudily colored turbans and sashes, in the latter 
being a big array of long knives and pistols. 
Long silver ear-rings dangled from the ears of 
the foremost driver. 

“ We are hoping,” said the Professor, when 
they had passed out of hearing, “ that in case 


War Rumors 107 

of war the Pomaks, who after all are Bulga- 
rians, will fight with us against the Turk and 
not against us as they have so often done in the 
past.” 

“ How did they ever come to believe in Mo- 
hammedanism? ” inquired Ljuben. 

“ No doubt because their ancestors wanted to 
save their property, which they could thus do. 
In other words, they valued material above 
spiritual blessings.” 

Here they were joined by one of the state 
foresters, who was instantly recognized by the 
royal lion on his cap. He proved to be a very 
agreeable companion, sharing his lunch with 
them under some wild fruit trees, which are 
very plentiful. He was full of tales of the wild 
animals and birds to be found in these parts. 
One of the adventures he related was in regard 
to a Russian exile who had the misfortune, while 
crossing these mountains in winter, to be caught 
in a bear trap. He had no way of freeing him- 


io8 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

self and might have perished from cold and 
hunger had not a fellow-forester chanced on 
him and assisted him to a neighboring monas- 
tery. 

The forester remained with them until a 
monastery, the very one to which he had re- 
ferred, had been reached. It lay in a pictur- 
esque valley in the very heart of the mountains. 
It was very large and the church attached to it 
was of a barbarous magnificence. When they 
entered the church they found that its walls were 
covered with gaudy paintings of saints. Many 
ikons were placed here and there, some of them 
loaded with recent offerings. After they had 
knelt before one or two of these, and crossed 
themselves in the way prescribed by the Greek 
Church, they walked out under the verandas 
encircling the court, to look for some one in 
authority. 

“ This monastery,” Nicola’s father remarked, 
while they waited, “ has served its country well. 



II L.W IN A PICTURESQUE VALLEY IN THE VERY HEART OF THE MOUNTAINS. 









War Rumors 


109 

In times of trouble refugees have often found 
shelter here, and have been housed and fed for 
months. There have even been times when the 
monks have not hesitated to fire against the foe. 
It was here, too,” he concluded, “ through the 
dark times, when our race seemed almost ex- 
tinct, that the old Slavonic ritual and language 
was retained and thus preserved.” 

A monk, in a long black robe and high hat, 
now approached and led them to where they 
were given a simple repast of rye bread and 
onions. When they had finished, Professor 
Rilski was taken into the presence of the Supe- 
rior, whom he had come especially to see, and 
with whom he had a long conversation, while 
the boys strolled about in the gardens. 

When later he rejoined them he held an open 
letter in his hand. In answer to their inquiries, 
he explained that he had found a message await- 
ing them ; that secret preparations for war were 
taking place; that Ljuben’s cousin had been 


no Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

called to Macedonia, and, leaving, she had sent 
a loving good-by to Ljuben, who was to pro- 
ceed home as quickly as possible. 

The Professor had much more to say, but the 
boys hardly heard him, so filled were they with 
a new excitement. The next morning they all 
set out on horseback for the nearest railroad 
station. On the way they were suddenly con- 
fronted by a band of Macedonian insurgents, 
now dressed in the uniforms of Bulgarian sol- 
diers. They were a splendid-looking, high- 
spirited group of men, and, as they approached, 
were chanting the melancholy “ Song of the 
Chetniks.” They paused for a moment, while 
their leader exchanged a few words with 
Nicola’s father. Then they fell into step again, 
as one of their number began to whistle the stir- 
ring notes of the “ Macedonian March.” 

As the boys looked up into the Professor’s 
saddened face, they knew that he was wondering 
how many of the number, — so strong, so fear- 


War Rumors 


1 1 1 


less, so young, — would ever return. Ljuben 
felt a sinking in his heart at the thought, and, 
to cheer himself and the others in a measure, it 
occurred to him to repeat softly the stanza from 
Boteff which he had learned at school : 

“ Who falls in fight for liberty’s dear sake 
Can never die; heaven weeps for him, and earth; 
Nature herself; — the woodland creatures make 
Hymns in his honor; poets sing his worth.” 

THE END 


Editor’s Note. — Bulgaria declared war on 
Turkey on October 1 6th, 1912, and was imme- 
diately joined by Servia, Greece and little Mon- 
tenegro, the four countries invading Turkish 
territory almost simultaneously. 

The history of the war has been one of un- 
broken success on the part of the allies. Greece 
and Servia, with such assistance as Montenegro 
could give, have driven Turkey from all of 


1 12 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

Macedonia and the territory between the Adri- 
atic and the Aegean Seas, until only Scutari, 
closely besieged by Montenegro, remains in 
Turkish hands. 

In the meantime the Bulgarians promptly 
captured the Turkish border town of Mustapha 
Pacha, and by the great victories of Kirk 
Kidisseh and Lule Burgas forced the Turkish 
army back upon the defences a short distance 
north of Constantinople. Every fortress, every 
point of vantage, fell quickly to the victorious 
Bulgarians, except the holy city of Adrianople, 
which heroically defended itself against the 
besiegers. 

On December 3d, under the auspices of the 
Great Powers of Europe, an armistice was 
signed and fighting ceased, except on the part 
of Greece, pending negotiations for peace. The 
bone of contention was Adrianople, which the 
allies demanded should be ceded to them, but 
which Turkey refused to yield, although on all 



FERDINAND, CZAR OF BULGARIA, ENTERING MUSTAPHA PACHA. 













r ' 





' • 0 S 































' 
























































Editor's Note 


113 

other points she accepted in principle the terms 
of peace offered her. After many weary weeks 
of negotiating the Turkish Government finally 
yielded on this one point, but this was a signal 
for a military revolution in Turkey by which 
the Government was overthrown and a new 
Government installed, which refused to yield up 
Adrianople to the allies. 

The war was resumed early in February, but 
no great progress was made, due to the severity 
of the weather. The siege of Adrianople, how- 
ever, was continued with vigor. The Great 
Powers of Europe have since the renewal of 
hostilities endeavored once more to arrange a 
peace satisfactory to both parties, but once 
again the fact that Adrianople remained un- 
captured seemed to be in the way of an under- 
standing. 

On March 26th, 1913, the city was captured 
after a terrific encounter in which both sides 
fought heroically. It is believed that the fall 


1 14 Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 

of Adrianople means the end of the war, as 
Turkey no longer has any excuse to refuse the 
terms which the Great Powers have advised the 
allies to offer. 

By the terms of peace Turkey will probably 
be left in possession of Constantinople and a 
narrow strip of territory extending along the 
Dardanelles and the Sea of Marmora from the 
Aegean Sea to the Black Sea. All the rest of 
her territory in Europe will be lost to her and, 
while the new boundaries may not be predicted, 
it seems certain that under the influence of the 
Great Powers of Europe one or more inde- 
pendent states will be created, while all of the 
allies, particularly Bulgaria, will receive large 
accessions of territory. 

March 28 th, 1913. 



4 


CZAR REVIEWING HIS TROOPS BEFORE ADRIANOPLE. 



* 



' 






























































































































































BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS 

(Trade Mark) 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 
Each 1 vol., large 12 mo, cloth, illustrated, per vol. . $1.50 

THE LITTLE COLONEL STORIES 

(Trade Mark) 

Being three “ Little Colonel ” stories in the Cosy Corner 
Series, “ The Little Colonel, ” “ Two Little Knights of 
Kentucky,” and “ The Giant Scissors,” in a single volume. 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HOUSE PARTY 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HOLIDAYS 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HERO 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL AT BOARDING- 

(Trade Mark) 

SCHOOL 

THE LITTLE COLONEL IN ARIZONA 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S CHRISTMAS 

(Trade Mark) 

VACATION 

THE LITTLE COLONEL, MAID OF HONOR 

(Trade Mark) 

THE LITTLE COLONEL’S KNIGHT COMES 

(Trade Mark) 

RIDING 

MARY WARE: THE LITTLE COLONEL’S 

CHUM (Trade Mark) 

MARY WARE IN TEXAS 
MARY WARE’S PROMISED LAND 

These 12 volumes, boxed as a set, $18.00. 

A - — X 


L. C. PAGE 6 - CO MPA NY S 


THE LITTLE COLONEL 

(Trade Mark); 

TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 
THE GIANT SCISSORS 
BIG BROTHER 

Special Holiday Editions 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto, $1.25 
New plates, handsomely illustrated with eight full-page 
drawings in color, and many marginal sketches. 

IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: The Legend 

of Camelback Mountain. 

THE THREE WEAVERS: A Fairy Tale for 
Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their 
Daughters. 

KEEPING TRYST 

THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART 
THE RESCUE OF PRINCESS WINSOME: 

A Fairy Play for Old and Young. 

THE JESTER’S SWORD 

Each one volume, tall 16mo, cloth decorative . $0.50 

Paper boards .35 

There has been a constant demand for publication in 
separate form of these six stories which were originally 
included in six of the “ Little Colonel ’ books. 

JOEL: A BOY OF GALILEE: By Annie Fellows 
Johnston. Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman. 

New illustrated edition, uniform with the Little Colonel 
Books, 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative . $1.50 

A story of the time of Christ, which is one of the author’s 
best-known books. 

A , — 2 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL GOOD TIMES BOOK 

Uniform in size with the Little Colonel Series . $1.50 

Bound in white kid (morocco) and gold . . 3.00 

Cover design and decorations by Peter Verberg. 
Published in response to many inquiries from readers 
of the Little Colonel books as to where they could obtain 
a “ Good Times Book ” such as Betty kept. 

THE LITTLE COLONEL DOLL BOOK 

Large quarto, boards $1.50 

A series of “ Little Colonel ” dolls. There are many of 
them and each has several changes of costume, so that 
the happy group can be appropriately clad for the re- 
hearsal of any scene or incident in the series. 

ASA HOLMES ; Or, At the Cross-Roads. By 
Annie Fellows Johnston. 

With a frontispiece by Ernest Fosbery. 

Large 16mo, cloth, gilt top $1.00 

“ ‘Asa Holmes; or, At the Cross-Roads 7 is the most 
delightful, most sympathetic and wholesome book that 
has been published in a long while.” — Boston Times. 

TRAVELERS FIVE: ALONG LIFE’S HIGH- 
. WAY. By Annie Fellows Johnston. 

*” With an introduction by Bliss Carman, and a frontis- 
piece by E. H. Garrett. 

Cloth decorative $1.25 

“ Mrs. Johnston’s . . . are of the character that cause 
the mind to grow gravely meditative, the eyes to shine 
with tender mist, and the heart strings to stir to strange, 
sweet music of human sympathy.” — Los Angeles Graphic. 
THE RIVAL CAMPERS; Or, The Adventures 
of Henry Burns. By Ruel Perley Smith. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 

A story of a party of typical American lads, courageous, 
alert, and athletic, who spend a summer camping on 'an 
island off the Maine coast. 

THE RIVAL CAMPERS AFLOAT; Or, The 

Prize Yacht Viking. By Ruel Perley Smith. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 

This book is a continuation of the adventures of “ The 
Rival Campers ” on their prize yacht Viking . 

A — 3 


L. C. PAGE & COMPANY'S 


THE RIVAL CAMPERS ASHORE 

By Ruel Perley Smith. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 

“ As interesting ashore as when afloat.” — The Interior. 

THE RIVAL CAMPERS AMONG THE 
OYSTER PIRATES ; Or, Jack Harvey’s Adven- 
tures. By Ruel Perley Smith. Illustrated . $1.50 

“ Just the type of book which is most popular with lads 
who are in their early teens.” — The Philadelphia, Item. 

A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

By Caroline Emilia Jacobs (Emilia Elliott). 

12mo, illustrated $1.50 

“ The book’s heroine Blue Bonnet has the very finest 
kind of wholesome, honest lively girlishness and cannot 
but make friends with every one who meets her through 
the book as medium.” — Chicago Inter-Ocean. 

BLUE BONNET’S RANCH PARTY 

A Sequel to “A Texas Blue Bonnet.” By Caroline 
Elliott Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read. 

12mo, illustrated $1.50 

The new story begins where the first volume leaves off 
and takes Blue Bonnet and the “We Are Seven Club ” 
to the ranch in Texas. The tables are completely turned: 
Blue Bonnet is here in her natural element, while her 
friends from Woodford have to learn the customs and 
traditions of another world. 

THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE 

Or, Peggy Raymond’s Success. By Harriet Lum- 
mis Smith. 

12mo, illustrated $1.50 

This is a book that will gladden the hearts of many 
girl readers because of its charming air of comradeship 
and reality. It is a very interesting group of girls who 
live on Friendly Terrace and their good times and other 
times are graphically related by the author, who shows 
a sympathetic knowledge of girl character. 

A— 4 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


i 


FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

By CHARLES H. L. JOHNSTON 
Each, large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 

Biographical sketches, with anecdotes and reminiscenses, 
of the heroes of history who were leaders of cavalry. 

11 More of shch books should be written, books that 
acquaint young readers with historical personages in a 
pleasant informal way.” — N. Y. Sun. 

FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS 

In this book Mr. Johnston gives interesting sketches of 
the Indian braves who have figured with prominence in 
the history of our own land. 

FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVEN- 
TURERS OF THE SEA 

In this volume Mr. Johnston tells interesting stories 
about the famous sailors of fortune. 

FAMOUS SCOUTS 

“ It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascina- 
tion for boys and young men and while it entertains them 
it will also present valuable information in regard to those 
whojjave left their impress upon the history of the country. 
— fhe New London Day. 

THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES 

By HARRISON ADAMS 

Each, large Ylmo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.25 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; Or, 

Clearing the Wilderness. 

Boys will follow with ever increasing interest the for- 
tunes of Bob and Sandy Armstrong in their hunting ^and 
trapping expeditions, and in their adventures with the 
Indians. 

THE PIONEER BO YS ON THE GREAT LAKES ; 

Or, On the Trail of the Iroquois. 

In this story are introduced all of the principal charac- 
ters of the first volume, and Bob and Sandy learn much 
of life in the open from the French trappers and coureurs 
du hois. 

A— 5 


L. C. PAGE & COMPANY'S 


BEAUTIFUL JOE’S PARADISE ; Or, The Island 

op Brotherly Love. A Sequel to “ Beautiful Joe.” 

By Marshall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe.” 

One vol., library 12mo, cloth illustrated . . SI. 50 

“ This book revives the spirit of ‘ Beautiful Joe ’ capi- 
tally. It is fairly riotous with fun, and is about as unusual 
as anything in the animal book line that has seen the 
light.” — Philadelphia Item. 

’TILDA JANE. By Marshall Saunders. 

One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $1.50 

“ It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books 
that win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down 
until I had finished it — honest ! And I am sure that every 
one, young or old, who reads will be proud and happy to 
make the acquaintance of the delicious waif. 

“ I cannot think of any better book for children than 
this. I commend it unreservedly.” — Cyrus T. Brady. 
’TILDA JANE’S ORPHANS. A Sequel to “’Tilda 


Jane.” By Marshall Saunders. 

One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $1.50 
’Tilda Jane is the same original, delightful girl, and as 
fond of her animal pets as ever. 

“ There is so much to this story that it is almost a novel 
— in fact it is better than many novels, although written 
for only young people. Compared with much of to-day’s 
juveniles it is quite a superior book.” — Chicago Tribune. 

THE STORY OF THE GRAVELYS. By 

Marshall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe’s 
Paradise,” “ ’Tilda Jane,” etc. 

Library 12mo, cloth decorative. Illustrated by E. B. 

Barry $1.50 

Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and 
triumphs, of a delightful New England family. 

BORN TO THE BLUE. By Florence Kimball 


Russel. 


12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.26 

The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on 
every page of this delightful tale. The boy is the son of a 
captain of U. S. cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the 
days when our regulars earned the gratitude of a nation. 


A— 6 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


IN WEST POINT GRAY 

By Florence Kimball Russel. 

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50 

“ Singularly enough one of the best books of the year 
for boys is written by a woman and deals with life at West 
Point. The presentment of life in the famous military 
academy whence so many heroes have graduated is realistic 
and enjoyable .” — New York Sun. 

THE SANDMAN: HIS FARM STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins. With fifty illustrations by 
Ada Clendenin Williamson. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover . . $1.50 

“ An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of 
very small children. It should be one of the most popular 
of the year’s books for reading to small children.” — 
Buffalo Express. 

THE SANDMAN: MORE FARM STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories met with 
such approval that this second book of “ Sandman ” tales 
was issued for scores of eager children. Life on the farm, 
and out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable manner. 

THE SANDMAN: HIS SHIP STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins, author of “ The Sandman: 
His Farm Stories,” etc. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
“ Children call for these stories over and over again.” — 
Chicago Evening Post. 

THE SANDMAN: HIS SEA STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
Each year adds to the popularity of this unique series 
of stories to be read to the J ; ttle ones at bed time and at 
other times. 

A— 7 


Z. C. PAGE &* COMPANY'S 


THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE GIRL 

By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . . $1.50 

A thoroughly enjoyable tale of a little girl and her com- 
rade father, written in a delightful vein of sympathetic 
comprehension of the child’s point of view. 

“ The characters are strongly drawn with a life-like real- 
ism, the incidents are well and progressively sequenced, 
and the action is so well timed that the interest never 
slackens.” — Boston Ideas . 

SWEET NANCY 

The Further Adventures of the Doctor’s Little 
Girl. By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . $1.50 

In the new book, the author tells how Nancy becomes 
in fact “ the doctor’s assistant,” and continues to shed 
happiness around her. 

NANCY, THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE PART- 
NER 

By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . .$1.50 

In Nancy Porter, Miss Taggart has created one of the 
most lovable child characters in recent years. In the 
new story she is the same bright and cheerful little maid. 

NANCY PORTER’S OPPORTUNITY 

By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . . $1.50 

Already as the “ doctor’s partner ” Nancy Porter has 
won the affection of her readers, and in the same lovable 
manner she continues in the new book to press the key- 
notes of optimism and good-will. 

ALMA AT HADLEY HALL 

By Louise Breitenbach. 

One vol., 12mo, illustrated $1.50 

“ This delightful tale of boarding-school life is one that 
cannot fail to appeal. to the lover of good things in girls’ 
books. It will take rank for its naturalness and truth.” 
— Portland Press. 

A— 8 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


GABRIEL AND THE HOUR BOOK 

By Evaleen Stein. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and deco- 
rated in colors by Adelaide Everhart . . $1.00 

Gabriel was a loving, patient, little French lad, who 
assisted the monks in the long ago days, when all the books 
were written and illuminated by hand, in the monasteries. 

“No works in juvenile fiction contain so many of the 
elements that stir the hearts of children and grown-ups as 
well as do the stories so admirably told by this author.” 
— Louisville Daily Courier. 

A LITTLE SHEPHERD OF PROVENCE 

By Evaleen Stein. 

Cloth, 12mo, illustrated by Diantha H. Marlowe $1 . 25 
“ The story should be one of the influences in the life 
of every child to whom good stories can be made to 
appeal.” — Public Ledger. ,^4*..,., 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

Bv Evaleen Stein. 

Cloth, 12mo, illustrated by John Goss . . $1.25 

“ This touching and pleasing story is told with a wealth 
of interest coupled with enlivening descriptions of the 
country where its scenes are laid and of the people there- 
of.” — Wilmington Every Evening. 


ALYS-ALL-ALONE 

By Una Macdonald. 

Cloth, 12mo, illustrated $1.50 

“ This is a most delightful, well-written, heart-stirring, 
happy ending story, which will gladden the heart of many 
a reader.” — Scranton Times. 


ALYS IN HAPPYLAND. A Sequel to “ Alys-All 

Alone.” By Una Macdonald. 

Cloth, 12mo, illustrated $1.50 

“ The book is written with that taste and charm that 
prepare younger readers for the appreciation of good litera- 
ture when they are older.” — Chicago Tribune. 

A— 9 


L. C. PAGE &> COMPANY'S 


THE RED FEATHERS. By G. E. T. Roberts. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated . . . . SI. 50 

“ The Red Feathers ” tells of the remarkable adventures 
of an Indian boy who lived in the Stone Age, many years 
ago, when the world was young. 

FLYING PLOVER. By G. E. Theodore Roberts. 
Cloth decorative. Illustrated by Charles Livingston 

Bull $1.00 

Squat-By-The-Fire is a very old and wise Indian who 
lives alone with her grandson, “ Flying Plover,” to whom 
she tells the stories each evening. 

COMRADES OF THE TRAILS. By G. E. 


Theodore Roberts. 

Cloth decorative. Illustrated by Charles Livingston 

Bull . . . $1.50 

The story of a fearless 
who, after the death of 

takes up the life of a hunter in the Canadian forests. 


young English lad, Dick Ramsey, 
his father, crosses the seas an J 


MARCHING WITH MORGAN. How Donald 

Lovell Became a Soldier of the Revolution. 

Bv John V. Lane. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated .... $1.50 

This is a splendid boy’s story of the expedition of 
Montgomery and Arnold against Quebec. 


RODNEY, THE RANGER Or, With Daniel 
Morgan on Trail and Battlefield. By John V. 
Lane. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50 

Young Rodney Allison, although but fifteen years of 
age, played a man’s part in the troublous times pre- 
ceding the American Revolution and in the War itself. 

THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; Or, Allan West’s 
Chum. By Burton E. Stevenson. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

In this book Mr. Stevenson takes up a new branch of 
railroading, namely, the work of the “ Shops.” 

A— 10 


i 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND; Or, The Ad- 
ventures of Allan West. By Burton E. Stevenson. 
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 

Mr. Stevenson's hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is 
given a chance as a section-hand on a big Western rail- 
road, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrillinh. 
THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER. By Bur- 
ton E. Stevenson. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 

“ A better book for boys has never left an American 
press .” — Springfield Union . 

THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER. By Burton E. 

Stevenson. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

“ Nothing better in the way of a book of adventure for 
boys.” — Boston Herald. 

CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER ; By Winn Standish. 
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

Jack is a fine example of the American high-school boy. 
JACK LO RIMER’S CHAMPIONS; Or, Sports 
on Land and Lake. By Winn Standish. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

“ It is exactly the sort of book to give a boy interested 
in athletics.” — Chicago Tribune. 

JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS; Or, Millvale 
High in Camp. By Winn Standish. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

Full of just the kind of fun, sports and adventure to 
excite the healthy minded youngster to emulation. 

JACK LORIMER’S SUBSTITUTE: Or, The Act- 
ing Captain of the Team. By Winn Standish. 
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 

On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wres- 
tling, and tobogganing. 

JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN. By Winn 
Standish. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

This book is typical of the American college boys' life 
and is a lively story. 

A— 11 


L. C. PAGE <&* COMPANY'S 


THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES 

(Trade Mark) 

Each one vol., 12mo, decorative cover, cloth, with full- 
page illustrations in color. Price per volume . $0.60 

By MARY HAZELTON WADE unless otherwise indicated 
Our Little African Cousin Our Little Hawaiian Cousin 

Our Little Alaskan Cousin Our Little Hindu Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet By Blanche McManus 
Our Little Arabian Cousin Our Little Hungarian Cousin 
By Blanche McManus By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet 
Our Little Argentine Cousin Our Little Indian Cousin 
By Eva Cannon Brooks Our Little Irish Cousin 
Our Little Armenian Cousin Our Little Italian Cousin 
Our Little Australian Cousin Our Little Japanese Cousin 
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet Our Little Jewish Cousin 
Our Little Belgian Cousin Our Little Korean Cousin 

By Blanche McManus By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Bohemian Cousin Our Little Mexican Cousin 
By Clara V. Winlow By Edward C. Butler 

Our Little Brazilian Cousin Our Little Norwegian Cousin 
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet Our Little Panama Cousin 
Our Little Brown Cousin By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Canadian Cousin Our Little Persian Cousin 
By Elizabeth R. Macdonald By E. C. Shedd 

Our Little Chinese Cousin Our Little Philippine Cousin 
By Isaac Taylor Headland Our Little Polish Cousin 
Our Little Cuban Cousin By Florence E. Mendel 

Our Little Danish Cousin Our Little Porto Rican Cousin 
By Luna May Innes Our Little Portuguese Cousin 
Our Little Dutch Cousin By Edith A. Sawyer 

By Blanche McManus Our Little Russian Cousin 
Our Little Egyptian Cousin Our Little Scotch Cousin 

By Blanche McManus By Blanche McManus 
Our Little English Cousin Our Little Siamese Cousin 
By Blanche McManus Our Little Spanish Cousin 
Our Little Eskimo Cousin By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet 
Our Little French Cousin Our Little Swedish Cousin 
By Blanche McManus By Claire M. Coburn 

Our Little German Cousin Our Little Swiss Cousin 

Our Little Grecian Cousin Our Little Turkish Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet 
A — 12 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


COSY CORNER SERIES 

It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall 
contain only the very highest and purest literature, — 
stories that shall not only appeal to the children them- 
selves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with 
them in their joys and sorrows. 

The numerous illustrations in each book are by well- 
known artists, and each volume has a separate attract- 
ive cover design. 

Each 1 vol., 16mo, cloth $0,50 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

THE LITTLE COLONEL (Trade Mark.) 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its hero- 
ine is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, 
on account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school 
Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family 
are famous in the region. 

THE GIANT SCISSORS 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in 
France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, 
and in later volumes shares with her the delightful ex- 
periences of the “ House Party ” and the “ Holidays.” 

TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 

Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors. 

In this volume, the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is not, 
however, the central figure of the story, that place being 
taken by the “ two little knights.” 

MILDRED’S INHERITANCE 

A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who 
comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic 
American family who are attracted by her beautiful 
speaking voice. By means of this one gift she is en- 
abled to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the 
use of her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, 
happy one. 

A — 13 


£. C. PAGE <9f» COMPAN1TS 


By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON (Continued) 

CICELY AND OTHER STORIES FOR GIRLS 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston's charming juveniles 
will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for young 
people. 

AUNT ’LIZA’S HERO AND OTHER STORIES 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal 
to all boys and most girls. 

BIG BROTHER 

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Stephen, 
himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of 
the simple tale. 

OLE MAMMY’S TORMENT 

“ Ole Mammy’s Torment ” has been fitly called “ a 
classic of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mis- 
haps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by 
love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. 

THE STORY OF DAGO 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, 
a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago 
tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mis- 
haps is both interesting and amusing. 

THE QUILT THAT JACK BUILT 

A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and how 
it changed the course of his life many years after it waff 
accomplished 

FLIP’S ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE 

A story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and bis 
final triumph, well worth the reading. 

A— 14 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


By EDITH ROBINSON 


A LITTLE PURITAN’S FIRST CHRISTMAS 

A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christ-' 
mas was invented bv Betty Sewall, a typicd child of th® 
Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A LITTLE DAUGHTER OF LIBERTY 

The author introduces this story as follows: 

One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-know^ ride of Paul 
Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
nde, . the ride of Anthony Severn, — which was no less 
Historic m its action or memorable in its consequences.” 

A LOYAL LITTLE MAID 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary 
days, m which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders 
important services to George Washington. 


A LITTLE PURITAN REBEL 

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time 
when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massa- 
chusetts. 


A LITTLE PURITAN PIONEER 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement 
at Charlestown. 


A LITTLE PURITAN BOUND GIRL 

A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great 
interest to youthful readers. 

A LITTLE PURITAN CAVALIER 

The story of a “ Little Puritan Cavalier ” who tried 
with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and 
ideals of the dead Crusaders. 

A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who 
endeavored to earry out the high ideals of the knight* 
of olden days. 

A — 15 


Z. C. PAGE & COMPANY'S 


By OUIDA ( Louise de la Ramee) 

A DOG OF FLANDERS 

A Christmas Story 

Too well and favorably known to require description. 

THE NURNBERG STOVE 

This beautiful story has never before been published 
at a popular price. 

By FRANCES MARGARET FOX 

THE LITTLE GIANT’S NEIGHBOURS 

A charming nature story ?f a “ little giant ” whoso 
neighbors were the creatures of the field and garden. 

FARMER BROWN AND THE BIRDS 

A little story which teaches children that the birds are 
man’s best friends. 

BETTY OF OLD MACKINAW 

A charming story of child life. 

BROTHER BILLY 

The story of Bettv’s brother, and some further adven- 
tures of Betty herself. 

MOTHER NATURE’S LITTLE ONES 

Curious little sketches d scribing the early lifetime, QT 
“ childhood,” of the little creatures out-of-doors. 

HOW CHRISTMAS CAME TO THE MUL- 
VANEYS 

A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor children 
with an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. 

THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

Miss Fox has vividly described the happy surprises that 
made the occasion so memorable to the Mulvaneys, and 
the funny things the children did in their new environ* 
ment. 

A— 16 


t 









* *r> A 


c5> << 


V, y<* u 



r> V' 

o cl ^ 


* A %. ° u 


s *V A "■' " '"rfv . 

> * v. <v -V .s A o, ^ 

,-0 v c 0 N c ^ * A X . * v 1 8 * ^O. 

*o A 

<» * ' 

* ,0o v * 

N X ^ v ^ 

/ 



^ rv 

^ .cv 



r\V cu ^ ” Ni ^ 0_ * ^a 1 ’ ^ 

'” O ^ 0 s'** <°~% ° N ° V<v.„, % 

^ -'VS®*/. A. AV .Wa V . -- 
" * <$* 


^ ^ °Ww. ^ 


A A*' 


' S A x ' X « 1 ' 8 * ' u * y * J^\ ° N S '^» ' " " ' A * 

•v f, u x <<> v 'f 

>- ’•so' r-CSWK •’*• '* ' 




°o' : ^ 

1 ^ 


V * 0 


.„,, :«sr: '=»' -"i 

^ ,, . . .. ^ A ✓> 

* *^SU^* 0 c- 

, A * * 1 ' * A s • * , " 

» ^ A^ % \^n*J '' C L> V '?•’■' "/• 

.A ^ to V. 

- - a • * 



v> *'*•> > . 0 ' 


.<4 


■V 

A 



<* A X> 

■* ^ C D V * 5 ^, n, 

•l .O.V * % . 

* \G ^ <" ^ / c s A 

,o* > ° ~ ^ vV . ^ ♦ ., 




^ A\ 
- ^ v * 


H 


* * 


A-a^v % str.-'V 

>, c * v\ ^ / v ^ ^ ^o 

% * V> C. ^ R ^ -V A^ . S ^-4^ y -1 





* * 

? c» N «♦/ ^ 



^ 0 X 



= -%^ : 

: A v \ 

A V * •< ^o o x 


< * * *> 




° ^5 ^ >* 

o r "S ^ 






* <y & 


' /*’ o n e , V ’ , , » ' ' r. i - .. 

\ ° ° *,‘ j ^ °3 o°‘ 

fu. ^ -*- 0 $ 

, \°°^. *. ®“ • 

„„ ^ ^ NVVV 

* v *Cr c o '» „ n v o>' <?p 

rvV ^ ^ 0 M 0 \V v 

^ V N * ' * o /. 

fi V* & < 5 * * ^ 



. P 


^ ^ '* ■ 
r*' *• 



° 0 ’ 

>° ^ ^ 



z y 7 _ ° z ^ V - 

<V 3 .$* ^ ° ,^‘ ^ o * 

V *>ti ^ r»V ^ ^ •£* o 

ft ^ ^ OV / ’ r> % 

■°' ’‘js^ ' * ,/v-'l!',% 

-< 'K^ . 


* ^ 
° <A ^ < 

> \v* H ^ 

^ ^Shr * 


X 0O «. 


0 


* \° °*. 


> > \ 
<x a 1 


^ V* 0 0 c* % 

i° v\^V^ 

** * '*®**. \ -v . 

XP 1 ^ > Q= 


o 5 ^ 


z ^ b 

; 



r» « “m^v 

A ° o 5 ^ >• C 

<r c£* L^UAs' C* Ss 

^ ' <£* V ft AV 


N V 


0 c> 

" -r 



